


More Than an Easy Feelin'

by kbs_was_here



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Isles Makes Learning Fun and Sexy, Rizzoli Swagger, The Stubborn One Finally Admits She's in Love with the Not-So-Stubborn One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6249616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbs_was_here/pseuds/kbs_was_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admitting her feelings about Maura to herself was apparently Jane's biggest obstacle. Once it's out in the open, how long will it take before the two of them catch up to what everyone else has known for a very long time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyLittlePoutyMouth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth/gifts).



> This is 100% fluff with some smut mixed in. I just wanted to give these ladies some sweet, sweet happiness. Possibly mild relationship angst, but not about anything serious. Because you can't really drive a wedge between these two. It's impossible. They'll punch right through it. Well, Jane will punch it. Maura will science it.
> 
> This is for prettylittlepoutymouth, because she loves Jane and Maura, even though they make her want fluff and she claims she hates fluff. (But she secretly loves it.)
> 
> Title is from Ambrosia's "Biggest Part of Me" because these fools are so in love they canonically have a song, already. Story is canon up through season five.

Feelings. Feelings were stupid. Feelings were things people talked about when they were-- Strike that, Jane didn’t talk about _things_. And double-strike that, Jane didn’t do feelings.

But, ugh. Feelings. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake them, not when they came to Maura. 

Maura.

_Fuck._

“Aw, come on!” Jane shouted at the red SUV that cut into her lane. Everything she was working hard to process wasn’t really being helped by the rush hour traffic.

She should have left earlier. Better yet, she should have just stayed at Maura’s last night, like her mother suggested. Last night’s game hadn’t wrapped up until almost eleven and Angela had been watching with them. When Jane began to grope around in the couch cushions for her keys, she made the suggestion that Jane just sleep in the guest room instead of going all the way home.

“You’ll just be back in the morning.”

“Your mother has a point. And you wouldn’t keep losing your keys if you’d put them on the key hook.” Maura felt around under the edge of the sofa, but her eyes were on Jane, eyebrows lifted, almost challenging.

“Fine. Next time I’ll use the hook.” Jane squinted as she dug between the couch cushions. “Uh, where is the hook?”

Maura stared pointedly at her and swung an index finger toward the front door. “On the wall.”

“Ah, by the front door. That’s handy.” Lanky fingers wrapped around a key fob. “Found ‘em!” Jane triumphantly freed the keys and waved them above her head. Her other hand stifled a yawn that escaped her mouth.

“See!” Angela pointed at her, accusingly.

“It’s like ten minutes from here to home.”

“It only takes an average of seven minutes to enter the Theta sleep stage,” Maura quipped.

“I’m not entering any Thetas on my way home. Or Kappas. Or Betas.”

“Beta waves are actually associated with wakefulness--”

“Goodnight!” Jane was quick to her feet. She kissed her mother on the cheek and ruffled Maura’s hair as she passed behind the couch on her way to the door. “Huh, there _is_ a hook there,” she commented, noticing the protrusion that was mere inches from the entryway lightswitch that she’d probably flipped a few hundred times, at least.

That had been seven hours ago. Which meant, by the time Jane had gotten home and settled, she’d only slept for about six hours before waking up to shower and make the turnaround back to Maura’s place because Jane never remembered to shop for groceries and had been out of coffee for at least a week. Why buy coffee when your best friend belonged to a direct-trade coffee bean of the month club? Especially when said best friend’s fridge was always stocked with fresh food.

As much as Jane liked -- no, loved -- to give Maura a hard time about organic farm fresh free range gluten free grain fed whatever, she had to admit the home-cooked meals were almost always better than the ancient leftovers that usually sat in her own refrigerator. Unless it was pizza. Cold morning pizza was always awesome. As long as nothing was growing on it.

But Jane wasn’t sitting at Maura’s breakfast bar, enjoying a fresh Guatemalan roast alongside a spinach and feta cheese omelette. She was stuck at a crawl on Interstate 93, because traffic sucked and some asshole had managed to have a blowout that pushed everything down to a single lane.

So, instead of a balanced and delicious breakfast, Jane was stuck with her feelings, which she continued to ignore as she turned up the radio and tried to drown them out with the tail end of a Coldplay song. But then the music gave way to an annoying morning radio show and she punched the power button.

“Come on!” she shouted into the space of the otherwise empty car. Maybe if traffic stayed stopped long enough, she could cat nap. The universe vetoed that idea and the car in front of her slowly moved forward.

Her phone buzzed in her lap, the screen illuminating with Maura’s face. Jane swiped to accept the call, her car automatically routing it via bluetooth to the speakers.

“Yeah?”

“It’s almost seven-thirty. Where are you?”

“The beach. It’s really nice out. Thought I’d get a swim in before work.”

“Oh, I wish you’d mentioned you were planning a morning outing. Your croissant sandwich is getting cold.” Maura said _croissant_ with full French pronunciation and Jane smirked.

“I’m on the freeway. It’s backed up.” The flow of traffic began to move faster. “Wait, it’s clearing. Pop that croissanwich in the microwave, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“You can’t microwave French pastries, Jane. It compromises the delicate integrity of the --”

“Okay, okay. We’ll heat it over an open flame or with a torch or however it’s supposed to be done. See you soon.”

The call disconnected and Jane merged toward the exit she needed to get to Maura’s. If she’d listened to her mother, she’d have slept an extra hour and her stomach wouldn’t be rumbling. 

Jane hated to admit when Angela was right.

But there was also something else about staying at Maura’s, something beyond convenience for her morning routine. Maura’s house felt as much like home as her own apartment. More, really, ever since the extended stay during her recovery from the shooting slash miscarriage several months ago.

She liked having the occasional night away from everyone else when she was working a difficult case, so she could drink beer and fall asleep on the couch surrounded by file folders, but she really was getting used to life with Maura.

Which.

That was part of this whole feelings problem.

When she opened the front door, Jane was met with a wave of breakfast scents and she set her immediate trajectory for the kitchen island where Maura stood, leaning against the counter behind her and sipping her coffee, but stopped and swung around to hang her keys on the hook next to the door.

“Look! I’m using it!” she announced, glancing back over her shoulder, catching Maura’s eye.

“It only took you how many years?”

Jane faux-laughed as she sauntered up to the coffee maker, filling the available mug that Maura always left out for her next to the machine. “It could have been a hook for anything, I didn’t want to assume.”

“Please, you’re always trying to get me to make guesses and assumptions based on far less calculable data.”

“Well… I…” Jane squinted, trying to come up with a retort, but she was too tired and the coffee hadn’t kicked in, yet. “... am too hungry to argue about it, so can I have my breakfast, please?”

“You may,” Maura hummed in reply, then grabbed the neatly folded dish towel off the counter and slid past Jane to the oven. She withdrew a ceramic dish containing the previously mentioned croissant sandwich and placed it at the already set space on the breakfast bar. “ _Voilà_! It’s a variation on the traditional _Croque Monsieur_ , which uses the more familiar _pain de mie_ , but I thought the delicate texture and flavor of the croissant would add a whimsical element.” As Jane settled into her seat and peered at the sandwich, Maura could tell she was trying to evaluate what between the bread. “It’s ham and cheese.”

At that, Jane grinned. Some mornings, most really, Jane didn’t bother to eat, even when Maura had something readily available. There were always snacks at the precinct and Jane had a tendency to graze. But this morning, a hot and melty breakfast sandwich was exactly what she needed.

“This tastes awesome,” she mumbled between bites.

“I met a woman at the farmer’s market last week who cures her own meats.” Maura poured herself a refresher on her own cup of coffee. “Which led me to thinking about how there are some things we’ve been wanting to do together.” 

“You want us to cook meats?”

“Cure,” Maura corrected. “It’s not cooking, it’s a method of preserving. And, no. As much as I’d enjoy the culinary science of the process, I don’t expect you’d find it particularly engaging.” As usual, Maura’s laptop sat open on the far end of the island and she clicked a few keys while Jane chewed. “I was thinking we could try this.”

The computer spun around and Jane found herself looking at a website about beer.

“Yes, whatever that is, I probably like it.”

“Great! Because I signed us up for this weekend.”

“To have beer?”

“To make beer.”

Jane’s mouth was full, but her eyes lit up. “Brrr brrrrrng crrff?” She hurried to chew and swallow. “You signed us up for beer brewing class?”

Maura nodded. “We talked about doing things on our bucket lists and I want to make sure we keep doing them.”

“This was from mine, though. Does this mean we have to go see ancient skulls of dead kings on display at the museum or something?” Jane slumped a little, then straightened back up because Maura was clearly trying to accommodate her and the least she could do was go look at a dead guy’s skeleton.

“There are currently no local exhibits that match that particular description,” Maura replied. “And while I’d love to explore the facets of cultural history with you, this isn’t about a trade-off, I just thought it would be nice to do something fun together. Plus, beer brewing is basic chemistry and that falls directly in my house-wheel.”

“Wheelhouse.” Speaking of history, the sandwich was now long gone and Jane rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth, despite the cloth napkin that sat, folded neatly at the edge of the placemat. She leaned in to look at the laptop screen, reading details about the class. “Look, we can learn the differences between ales and lagers. Oh! And then we could brew at home. I could have my own beer. And Korsak could sell it in the bar. This is a great retirement plan.”

“I’m glad you’re excited about it.” Maura flashed a smile at her, then collected Jane’s dishes and rinsed them in the sink.

The moment struck Jane, though she couldn’t put her finger on what, in particular, stood out to her. This morning wasn’t vastly different than many she’d spent there, sitting in that same spot, having breakfast, watching Maura navigate the space. Things felt safe here. They felt _good_.

There were those feelings, again. Unlike in the car though, they didn’t feel quite so problematic. They were confusing, sure, because Jane didn’t know where to file them. But she also knew that she was trying to let them out, a little at a time. It wasn’t healthy to keep them locked up, even though she’d done exactly that for most of her life.

Maybe it was time for a small step.

“Maura?”

“Yes?” she was loading the dishwasher, something so innocuous and simple, yet Jane realized she’d been caught up in watching her.

“Uh, what’s something you want to do? From your list.”

“We talked about Egypt--”

“Which is awesome, but I’m thinking about stuff, you know, in America.”

“Oh. Hmm.” There was a click as the dishwasher closed and Maura stepped forward, both hands on the island as she stood across from Jane. “I’ve never seen the Grand Canyon.”

That came as a genuine shock to Jane. “Really? Even the Rizzolis have done the summer family road trip to the South Rim.”

Maura shrugged. “We were always in Europe or vacationing in the Hamptons.”

“Of course you were.” Jane opened a new tab on the laptop’s browser and typed in a search for flights from Logan International to Las Vegas. “Here, there’s a flight in an hour, that puts us in Vegas in the afternoon, book a hotel, drive out to the rim around dawn, see the big hole in the ground, drive back to Vegas, play a few hands of blackjack, then catch a flight home.” When Jane glanced up from the computer, she found Maura studying her, listening intently, perhaps evaluating the timeline being laid out. “Maura. I’m not serious.”

“It wouldn’t be impossible. Though, that plan wouldn’t leave much allowance for improvisation. Did you know the MIT blackjack team generated a return of over two hundred and fifty percent to their initial investors? Considering the general average of a player’s advantage against the house, using basic strategy, is somewhere around zero point five percent, that’s--”

“--fascinating, yes. But, we really should think about a trip, sometime. Korsak’s been after me about using some of my vacation days. Not that I want to, but…” Jane considered the screen in front of her.

“I’d love to take a trip with you! I’ve also always wanted to do a tour of California wine country.”

Jane crossed her eyes. “Ugh, I hate California.”

“You hated Los Angeles. Wine country is in the northern part of the state.” Another face from Jane. “It’s a big state, Jane. And they have tours through Napa Valley. All you’d have to do is drink.”

“Do they have that same exact tour, but for beer?”

“No, but that’s why we’re doing the brewing class.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jane rose and made way toward the coffee maker to refill her cup. On her way, she wrapped an arm around Maura in a half-hug. “Thank you.”

Maura’s arms slid around her and there was a light squeeze in return. “You’re welcome.”

The scent of Maura’s shampoo was unavoidable, given that Jane’s nose rested against the top of Maura’s head. And while Jane had no particular interest in Maura’s beauty products, the thought of it, or more, Maura’s close proximity, triggered something. 

Feelings.

_Again._

No more boxing them up.

Jane released the embrace and continued on to her previous task of refilling her coffee. Box or no box, she needed more caffeine.

While Jane worked on emptying the coffee pot, one cup at a time, Maura returned to the browser tab about the beer class and began entering the time and date of the event into her calendar app.

“Maura?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t look up and that was better, actually. Because--

“I love you.” 

It was out. And, _sonuvabitch_ , that was no small step.

“I know.” 

Okay, maybe Maura hadn’t been paying attention.

“I mean, like… I have… feelings for you.”

At that, Maura looked up at her. “I know.”

“You-- what? Okay, who are you? Han Solo?”

There wasn’t a chance for Maura to miss one of Jane’s pop culture references or for Jane to make fun of her for not knowing about something as universal as Star Wars because both of their phones buzzed, Jane’s on her hip, Maura’s on the island counter.

“Rizzoli.”

“Isles.”

“What do you mean ‘you know’?” Jane whispered at her, covering the microphone. “And that’s not what you say when someone tells you they love you, by the way.” Into the phone she spoke clearly, “Be right there.”

Maura gave a similar response on her own call, then hung up. “Why don’t you drive and we can talk about it.” Her eyes were bright and a smile played on her lips.

“I should have kept my big mouth shut,” Jane muttered, her eyes narrowed at Maura, then scanned the counter for her keys before feeling her pockets.

“Jane.”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for--” The sound of Maura’s throat clearing snapped Jane’s attention toward the entryway. “Hold your damn horses, Maura, I’m trying to find my--”

The hook.

As Jane lifted the keys from the hook, she wondered just how many other things Maura already knew that Jane had been missing.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well?”

Maura hadn’t said anything since they left the house, except to relay the address of the crime scene, and they were now idling at an intersection, waiting for the light to change. Jane impatiently peered at her over the tops of her aviators.

“Remember my sweat lodge revelations?”

“Yeah.”

“And how I had one about you?” It was rhetorical, really, as Maura knew full well that Jane remembered the revelation in question.

“You said it was about me realizing I’m strong enough to handle whatever comes my way.”

“That was part of it, yes. Light’s green.”

Jane forced her attention back to the road, but continued to press the doctor for details. “And the _other_ part?”

“That our friendship extends beyond traditional platonic boundaries.” She considered how to reveal the further details, knowing Jane tended to ignore most emotional conversations and there was a strong chance she might just turn up the radio if Maura revealed too much, too quickly. Or, at least, that had been the concern until ten minutes ago, when Jane blurted out her admission of love in the middle of the kitchen. So, she pressed on. “When you jumped off that bridge, those were the longest hours of my life. I realize they still passed in sixty-minute increments and didn’t actually take longer to--”

“I understand the concept,” Jane waved the conversation forward. “I’m not trying to rush you, but the scene isn’t that far from here and I’d like to get a few more details beyond the illusion of time passing slowly.”

“When I was faced with the possibility that you weren’t coming back alive, it forced me to realize I was harboring emotions beyond the standard definition of friendship.”

Jane stole a glance at her. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I was angry with you, at first. And when you showed up in my office with my favorite perfume, I admittedly found it to be somewhat romantic, even if it was really just intended to be an apology.”

“I just know you really like the stuff and I didn’t want you to be mad.”

A light laugh escaped Maura’s lips. “Exactly my point. I’ve spent a lot of time since then, trying to evaluate your intentions, wondering how you arrive at the particular conclusions that lead you to do and say certain things.”

“You’re saying I’m confusing?”

“To the untrained eye, maybe.” She regarded Jane, sitting next to her, in one of her work suits, looking like she did on any other day, on the way to a scene. But today, Maura had an additional piece to the puzzle. An important one.

The car rolled up to the curb of the scene’s address and Jane shut off the engine and released her seatbelt. “And to a trained eye?”

“Still confusing, at times. But an enjoyable challenge.” Maura turned to face her, reaching out to smooth the lapel of of Jane’s jacket. “I love you, too.”

The aviators, despite being fashionable and, well, sexy on the detective, were also impeding Maura’s ability to gauge Jane’s microexpressions. Not that she really needed to see them in this moment, there was certainly enough data to confirm that Jane returned Maura’s sentiment. Still, Maura took comfort in the upturn of the corners of Jane’s lips, the raise of her cheeks, the flash of teeth; an active zygomaticus was pulling the orbicularis oris to form a genuine smile.

There was much more to talk about, more to say, but Korsak and Frankie were just outside the car, waiting for them. Jane slid her hand over the one that was still resting on the lapel of her jacket and gave it a squeeze before letting go and opening her door.

Maura had been quick to assess that the death showed distinct signs of suicide, which meant Jane didn’t need to stick around at the scene. There were other cases that needed her attention and Frankie volunteered to give Maura a ride back to the precinct.

“I’ll come find you for lunch?” Jane asked, rolling the purple gloves off her hands.

Maura nodded, splitting her attention between the swabs she’d collected and the woman speaking to her. “Please do.”

Hours later, Maura was down in her office, having signed off on the suicide shortly after the body was delivered to the lab. She’d been tempted to call Jane, to ask her to come down early, but she didn’t want to push, despite the fact that their feelings were clearly mutual. Even so, Jane was Jane and Jane didn’t like being pushed toward anything, so Maura felt it was best just to wait for her to wander down to the precinct basement on her own time.

She had allowed herself to get caught up in an article on intensified antituberculosis therapy when she heard the light knock on the doorframe. Looking up, she was met with Jane’s casual smirk as she leaned in the doorway.

“Am I pulling you away from anything incredibly fascinating?”

Maura considered explaining what she’d been reading but despite her professional academic interest in it, she was far more interested in the conversation she and Jane were bound to have. “Nothing that can’t wait.”

“Good.” Jane bounded into the room, clutching a large paper sack of what smelled like fried food. She immediately began moving things around on Maura’s desk.

“Hey, those are organized,” Maura said, snatching a file out of Jane’s hand.

“If I didn’t move them, you’d be mad that they got greasy.” Jane began unpacking the bag of food, placing one of two styrofoam containers in front of Maura and the other in front of herself. She sat on one of the stools opposite Maura’s side of the desk, waving her arms in a flourish. “Lunch!”

“Which is?”

“One turkey burger for you, one real actual meat burger for me.”

“This is very thoughtful, thank you.” Maura rose from her seat. “Did you want anything to drink from the vending machine?”

“I’ll get it. Sit back down.”

“Jane, I’m perfectly capable--” But Jane stood in front of her, put two hands on Maura’s shoulders and guided her back to the chair.

“I’ll get it.” And, as if it were part of their standard protocol, Jane’s head dipped, just enough so she could ghost a light kiss over the bridge of Maura’s nose. “Besides, you made me that croquet breakfast sandwich this morning.”

“ _Croque Monsieur_ ,” Maura offered, a little dazed from the affection, but Jane was already halfway down the hall to the vending machines.

“Dr. Isles, I have the reports from--” Susie stopped herself in the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you in the middle of something?”

“Just lunch, Susie.” Though Maura could feel an engorgement of the subpapillary venous plexus across her cheeks, meaning her assistant may easily interpret the skin flush as something more that a regular meal date between friends. Which it was. But also wasn’t.

“I’ll just leave these for you, uh,” Susie looked for the appropriate place to leave the paperwork, finally settling on the relocated stack of files that sat at the far edge of the desk. “Here.”

Jane re-entered, cold drinks in hand. “‘Sup, Chang,” she said as the smaller woman quickly moved past her.

“Nice to see you, Detective Rizzoli,” Susie greeted with a polite nod before she exited the room.

“What’s with her?”

“I think she assumed she was interrupting something.”

“Lunch?” Jane set the cool silver can of sparkling water down next to Maura’s burger and a red can of cola down next to her own. She settled onto the stool and began working on her burger.

Between fries, Maura decided she needed to ask the question that had been on her mind since this morning. “Was there a reason why you chose to say something today?”

Jane’s mouth was full of hamburger and she took her time chewing before washing everything down with a gulp of soda. “It was a really, really good breakfast sandwich.”

“I realize there’s an iota of metaphorical truth to the old adage about getting to one’s heart through the stomach, despite the glaring anatomical inaccuracies, but--”

“Don’t start Wikipediaing me, at least not yet.”

“I apologize, please continue.”

“Like I said, really great cricket sandwich--”

“ _Croque_ \--”

“And then you sprung that beer class on me, which really just made something obvious that I already knew. You’re… pretty much perfect.”

There was that superficial warmth on Maura’s face, again. “Jane…”

“You mentioned the bridge this morning, how I left you worried and wondering about everything. I spent a lot of time in the water, not really thinking about much other than staying afloat and getting to dry land, but after that… on the boat, when I was on my way back to the docks, all I could think about was seeing you, again. And, of course, my family. Those things aren’t exclusive, though.” Jane took the time to chew through a fry, considering her next statement. Maura didn’t want to interrupt, so she just sipped her sparking water and waited. 

“Before that, it was the shooting and recovery time in the hospital. Losing the baby was depressing, especially because I’d been thinking about all the stuff we planned to do together. You, me, even Ma. It wasn’t anything too detailed, it was just a nice thought, you know?”

Maura nodded. She’d indulged a bit herself. Jane wasn’t even aware of the box of designer baby clothes still locked away in the study closet.

“But you know me and how I shove all that crap down… that’s why I didn’t want to go sweat out all my feelings with you, because I wasn’t ready. I don’t even know if I really am now, but this morning I realized that I’m lucky to have you in my life and it would be incredibly idiotic of me not to say something about it.”

Jane took a huge bite of her burger and settled back on her seat. Maura realized that meant Jane was probably finished talking about her feelings, though the amount of sharing she’d just done was unprecedented. 

“I’m very glad you did.”

“I jus’ don’ know whaddit means,” Jane managed, through her mouthful of food. “F’r us.”

“It means whatever we want it to mean,” Maura replied.

“It doesn’t really feel like anything’s different.”

“That’s because nothing has fundamentally changed. We share mutual feelings and now those have been expressed and we can move forward. I suppose,” Maura considered, “there may be elements of the observer effect in play, now that we’re both aware.” She contemplated in silence through a bite of her sandwich.

“Is that a good kind of effect or a bad one?”

“It carries no positive or negative weight, it just suggests that an outcome may differ once an object is being observed.”

“So, knowing you have the same feelings I do might result in me making different choices than I would have, otherwise?”

“That’s one possibility, yes. Though human emotions aren’t quantifiable the way hard data would be in the realms of physics or quantum mechanics.”

“No! Of course not,” Jane dramatically replied. Her phone rang, putting a hold on any further conversation. “Rizzoli. Okay, be right up.” She slipped the iPhone back into it’s holster and began to shove all the garbage into the paper bag. “Nina has something on our case from last week,” she said. “If anything, I’ll be back to give you a ride home.”

“I can call a cab if I need to,” Maura replied. She had plenty of work to do, but not enough to occupy her time if the Jane’s casework ran too late.

“I’ll be back,” Jane repeated, then she was out of the office and around the corner.

Maura stood and completed the task of clean-up, debating whether or not she wanted to throw all of this away somewhere outside of her office, as to not leave the aroma of fried foods lingering in the space. But then Jane was back, striding quickly toward Maura’s side of the desk.

“You’re right. Knowing you feel this way already has me making different choices,” she said, voice low as she looked at Maura. Her head dipped and her lips pressed to Maura’s in a kiss, simple, easy, and relatively chaste. But it left Maura weak in the knees when Jane pulled back and offered a casual smile. “I’ll pick you up at five.”

Jane arrived downstairs to pick her up at five-oh-six, which was actually earlier than Maura projected, given that Jane easily got lost in her work, especially when she had any potential breakthroughs on the line. It turned out the break had come along in the afternoon, so the latter half of the work day was mostly centered around paperwork, something Jane was more than happy to complete as quickly as possible in order to keep her timeline with Maura.

“Did you want to get a drink?” Maura asked, shouldering her purse and collecting her medical bag. She much preferred the idea of going home to process the day’s events over a glass of wine, but Jane enjoyed the company of her friends, especially in tandem with the discounted drinks at The Dirty Robber.

“Korsak’s band is playing tonight around eight, I thought maybe we’d go for one then?”

Maura felt Jane’s hand at the small of her back as they moved toward the elevator. It wasn’t new, it wasn’t loaded with any implication, it was Jane being Jane. “I was planning on making grilled salmon for dinner,” she said, watching as Jane poked at the up arrow no less than six times.

“You’re going to make me eat salad, aren’t you?”

“Considering the lunch I know you had, yes. Absolutely.”

“The hamburger had lettuce on it! And a tomato.”

“You need multiple servings of fresh--”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” The elevator opened and Jane waited for Maura to enter before following her inside.

The evening unfolded like many before. Maura opened a bottle of wine, Jane cracked open one of the Peronis that Maura so dutifully kept stocked in the refrigerator. As was often the case, Jane was relegated to sous chef, slicing fresh vegetables for the salad while Maura handled the more delicate culinary nuances.

Everything was as it always had been, save for moments where Maura would reach past Jane to collect a knife or a dishtowel and, while it wasn’t possible that time actually slowed, it felt as if the seconds would linger, just enough for Maura to realize she was positively giddy with the prospect of what all of this _meant_.

“”What?” Jane asked, after Maura had been gazing at her.

“I was just thinking--”

“That’s a shock.”

“--about how most of the science surrounding attraction between mates is heavily skewed toward heteronormativity, because of the evolutionary drive to procreate with someone is commonly fueled by who offers the best genetic advantage over others. Yet, there are also many examples of non-heteronormative activity in nature, when procreation isn’t the primary factor in play.”

“That’s very sexy talk for a first date, Dr. Isles.”

“Is this a date?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It just feels like a Wednesday.”

Maura stepped closer to Jane, slipping her arms around the taller woman. “I want to give you as much time to process all of this as you need before things… escalate.”

“And what would this escalation entail?” Jane asked, draping her own arms over Maura’s shoulders.

“Physical contact. Specifically, intimate physical contact. Lingering hugs, kissing, erotic touch, sex.”

“Is it normal that we’re always having these conversations around food?”

“Given how regularly you’re always looking for your next meal, I think the odds of any important conversations happening around food are greater than not.”

“You’re wondering if you’re going to get laid, anytime soon, aren’t you?” Jane asked.

Maura immediately pulled back and looked up at her. “It’s not about sex, I’m just attempting to--” But Jane was laughing.

“It _is_ about sex, but I think you’re overthinking all of it.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s been several months since my last relationship ended and--”

“It’s been awhile? Maura, the last guy I was with was Casey. Do the math.” Maura paused, mentally calculating just how long it had been since the miscarriage, then began to deduct the fetal progress before Jane stopped her. “Oh my god, you’re doing the actual math. I just meant that it’s been a really long time for me. And I’ve definitely never done it with a woman.”

“Is that going to complicate things?”

“Probably. Not… it’s not complicated with you. Not this part. I just need to wrap my head around some of the other stuff.”

“Have you ever read _The Whole Lesbian Sex Book_?”

“ _Why_ would I have read part of that book, let alone the whole thing?”

“It’s the title,” Maura laughed with a shake of her head. “I’ve always found it to be empowering to learn about various sexual techniques. That book, in particular, taught me much about my own body and what kind of pleasure to request from a partner.”

“Can we just start with kissing? I’m confident I know how to do that.”

Instead of rattling off whatever reply Maura had lined up in her overactive brain, she simply nodded and angled her head upward, accepting a kiss from Jane. It was just as easy and relaxed at the kiss in Maura’s office, but there was time to linger, time to explore and experiment, to test pliability and elicit small sounds in response.

It was a good thing Maura had set the kitchen timer, because otherwise the salmon would likely have burned well beyond recognition.


	3. Chapter 3

Outside The Dirty Robber, Maura put the Prius in park and was about to exit the car when she stopped and turned to Jane. “Have you given any thought as to how we’d like to appear once we’re in there?”

“Like… how we’re dressed?” Jane asked.

“No, about our situation.”

“I know that’s what you meant, I just didn’t want to talk about it.” The total amount of conversation that revolved around feelings and relationships totaled more than Jane had been forced to handle in over a year.

“Then we don’t have to discuss it,” Maura reached for the door handle, but Jane pulled her back.

“No, it’s important, I guess. Uh, I definitely don’t need your tongue down my throat at my mother’s place of work.”

“I’d hope you don’t actually think my sense of decorum is that lacking. Or my self-control, for that matter.”

“Are you kidding? I’m incredibly charming and, from the way you were all over me in the kitchen earlier, who knows what could happen if you get a couple tequila shots in you.”

“When was the last time you saw me _shoot tequila_?”

Jane squinted, looking up at the car ceiling. “Uh… three weeks ago.”

“That was you.”

“Oh yeah.”

“We don’t have to over-evaluate this, I just want you to be comfortable. We can just go in, as usual, sit at our table, and enjoy the night.”

“I like that. And they’re detectives, let them figure things out on their own.” Jane rubbed her thumb across Maura’s arm. “I want to do whatever you need, too.”

“I just need you to feel like your boundaries are intact.” Maura squeezed Jane’s knee, then finally pulled on the door handle.

Jane couldn’t help watching her exit the car, not just because she had a brand new appreciation for the way Maura’s skirt clung to her curves, but because she felt beyond lucky to have a woman like Maura in her life. 

Inside, finding routine came easily enough. Angela brought a round to the table where Maura and Jane sat with Frankie, Susie, and Nina. They talked about work, the case they’d brought to a close earlier that day, whether or not Korsak had always kept every single animal he found while out on the beat, and other than the occasional brush of the hand or bump of the knees under the table, Jane and Maura kept from touching each other.

Though, there came a moment between Jane’s second and third beer that she decided she didn’t particularly care what anyone thought about anything, and she rested her hand on Maura’s leg, gentle, not groping. For Christ’s sake, her mother and brother were right there, she didn’t need to be feeling up her girlfriend in front of them.

 _Girlfriend._ Jane held her beer bottle against her lips because she could feel the stupid smile threatening to spread across her face. She was nearly forty years old, but she felt like a sixteen year old kid in love. Maura’s fingers wrapped around Jane’s, the table shielding them from view.

Or so they thought.

After the bar, the night had been relatively non-eventful. They returned to Maura’s and Jane, this time, agreed to stay the night, already sleepy from the few hours of rest she’d gotten the previous night combined with the multiple beers she’d consumed at the bar. Jane was out within seconds of hitting the pillow and Maura was already up when Jane woke. There were still clothes in the guest room from Jane’s stay during her recovery following the shooting, so she took a shower and dressed for work, just as she had so many times before.

And, like other days, Jane found her mother in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee as Maura prepared what looked like some kind of scramble.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me.”

“Whoa,” Jane stopped short. “What’d I do?” She glanced to Maura who shrugged and kept her eyes on the pan full of eggs and vegetables.

Angela poured a second cup of coffee and held it out to Jane. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“Um, I don’t know?” Jane reached for it, but Angela drew it back. “Maura? Why is my mother giving me the evil eye and dangerously withholding caffeine?”

Maura, always one to tell the truth, even when it’s not the most ideal time for revelations, sighed and said, “She knows.”

“She knows wha-- _Oh_.” Jane turned back to her mother. “You’re mad about it?” Even though she wasn’t sure how she planned to reveal this new aspect of her relationship with Maura to everyone else, she hadn’t expected anger as a response. The Rizzolis were Catholic, sure, but they were lax about a lot of things.

“I’m mad,” Angela replied, finally handing Jane the cup of coffee, only to slap her on the arm, “that you didn’t tell me about it.”

“It just happened yesterday.”

“That didn’t stop you two from fawning all over each other last night. Holding hands under the table, making moon eyes. So romantic.” 

“Ugh, Ma. Do you have to make such a big deal out of everything?”

“Yes!” Angela pulled both women into an embrace. “When my children are happy, I’m happy. And my two girls seem very, very happy with each other.” She released them and collected her coffee cup before heading out the back door. “Finally,” Angela shouted into the cool Boston morning.

“Well, that’s it. Everybody knows,” Jane said, slipping into the stool at the end of the counter. “What did you tell her?”

“Me? Why do you assume I said anything?”

“ _Because_ ,” Jane drew the word out, “she knows she can get what she wants out of you.”

“She just wants to be included. And she kept asking me if anything was new and there are only so many recent discoveries in autopsy procedures.”

“You could have told her about _any_ of the old ones, she wouldn’t have known.” Jane rested a head on her hand as she sipped her coffee. “Well, when you ran out of autopsy stories, what did you tell her?”

“That you and I had a conversation about what we mean to each other.”

“That could have been anything.”

“Your mother isn’t oblivious, Jane.”

Jane’s shoulders sagged. “I know. I just wish we’d had more than twenty-four hours to keep it to ourselves.” But did she? Wasn’t all of this about confronting her feelings and taking control of her life? “It doesn’t bother you?”

Maura loaded two plates with the scramble she’d been cooking and placed one in front of Jane. “I’ve never been one to be bothered by the truth.” She sat down with the second plate in the seat next to Jane. “Neither have you.”

“Unless it’s a truth that has my mother barging into my life and demanding grandbabies.” 

“You two really should have a conversation about boundaries.”

“You should memorize more new autopsy techniques to keep her occupied.”

Maybe it was because Angela no longer worked in the on-site cafe or maybe because her mother actually managed to keep her mouth shut, but no one at the precinct seemed to be any the wiser when Jane sat down at her desk. 

Then again, by ten-thirty, Jane felt like she’d caught people staring at her at least half a dozen times, but whenever she turned to say, “What?” they’d scatter. She had no new cases, so she headed for the elevators and punched the down arrow, but before she could escape to the sanctity of the basement, the elevator doors opened to reveal Frankie.

“Oh, hey, Janie.” He flashed a nervous smile at her and moved to pass by, but she grabbed him by the arm and spun him around.

“What’s up?”

“You know, uh, work.”

“And?”

He was starting to sweat. “Thinking about where to go for lunch?”

“You know anything about why people keep staring at me?” Jane nodded her head down the hall where two detectives were trying to discreetly listen in.

“What? No.” Frankie shook his head, but it wasn’t convincing.

“All right.” Jane pushed him back into the elevator and pressed the “B” repeatedly.

“But I have reports to--”

“Shhhh.”

Once downstairs, Jane herded Frankie into the lab where Maura was analyzing results from a drowning case sent over from a neighboring precinct. She looked up from the microscope she’d been peering into, unsure as to why both detectives were in her lab.

“Okay, spill,” Jane said, poking at Frankie’s chest.

“I don’t know anything?”

“Jane?” Maura asked.

“Oh, he knows.”

“I know what?”

“About me and Maura.”

“What about you and-- Oh, _shit_. Did it finally happen?”

“Like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t!”

“Then why--”

“Oh, man, this is great. I’m gonna make like a hundred bucks on this.”

Jane’s eyebrows shot upward. “People are _betting_?”

“Well, it started as a small pool between some of us, but then it got bigger and… Oh, hey. That’s why people were watching you! The rules are that no one can ever directly ask. You have to say something. Or Maura. But you carry better odds because you never talk that much about, you know, relationships.”

“You _bet_ on my _relationship_ with _Maura_?” Jane’s voice gained volume with every word.

“Jane, perhaps shouting about it isn’t the best way to keep our business private,” Maura suggested.

Jane’s eyes narrowed at her brother. “You’d better take me out for drinks with whatever you win. Maura, too.”

Once he agreed to spend his winnings on the two women, Jane released him to return upstairs.

“Was that necessary?” Maura asked.

“No, but it was fun.”

The reality was, once everyone had settled their bets, there really wasn’t anything hanging over Jane’s head. It wasn’t against policy for a detective to be involved with a medical examiner. It wasn’t a shock that the two of them were interested in each other. It wasn’t particularly big news, period.

At least not to the majority of their colleagues. But to their close friends, it was cause for celebration. Which was why Korsak announced the first round of Friday night’s drinks were on him. Jane and Maura took up residence in their regular booth, seated across from each other, trying to sort out their plans for the weekend since neither of them were scheduled to be on call.

“There’s a home game on Sunday, we should go,” Jane suggested, downing the last dregs of her beer.

“All right, but if you’re going to insist on eating stadium food, it’s only fair that we finally try that new vegan brunch spot beforehand.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Jane relented. She considered putting up more of a fight, but sacrificing meat and cheese for a meal was worth it for an afternoon with the Red Sox. Especially with Maura there, too.

“Okay,” Frankie approached the table with a round of tequila shots and a glass of sangria. “After this, we’re square, right?” he asked, sliding a shot over to the Jane and the sangria toward Maura.

Jane looked at the tray, that now just held one additional shot and a Blue Moon, the latter of which Jane reached over and confiscated for herself. “Where are my three limes?”

Frankie groaned and shuffled back toward the bar, returning momentarily with a bowl full of lime wedges. “Happy?”

“Yes,” she said, applying salt to her hand in preparation for taking the shot.

“The entire process of tequila shooters really isn’t the most sanitary,” Maura noted.

“It ends with pure alcohol, so any germs are sanitized on the way down.”

“The alcohol content is actually anywhere from thirty-eight to fifty-five percent, which is--”

Frankie raised his shot glass. “To my big sister and the fact that she’s finally found someone who can dish all her own crap right back to her.” He glanced at Maura, “I mean that in a good way.” Maura tipped her glass to him as he and Jane downed their shots. After he was content that he’d fulfilled his bargain with Jane, Frankie ambled back toward the table he shared with some of the other BRIC detectives.

As Jane chewed on her lime wedge, she caught a glint in Maura’s eye as she watched her.

“What?”

“It’s just nice to see you relaxed.”

“I relax all the time.”

Maura released a hearty laugh. “No, you don’t.”

“We just relax in different ways.”

“I should sign us up for another couple’s massage.”

Jane took a pull from her beer and considered the fact that Maura had always been making shared dates for the both of them to enjoy spas and massages together. “Just how long have you been pursuing me?”

“What do you mean?”

“It just seems like maybe we’ve been dating a lot longer than three days.” Another pair of tequila shots was delivered to the table. Jane eyed them, wondering if it was really a good idea to indulge. But she didn’t have to work tomorrow. And she didn’t have to drink both. “Have one with me?”

Maura contemplated it, then slid her sangria aside. “Just the one. Remind me of the process?”

“It’s very scientific.” Jane took Maura’s hand and flipped it over, palm down. “You’re going to lick this spot, right here,” she traced out a space on Maura’s skin, between her thumb and wrist. She waited for Maura to follow the instruction, then she did the same. She pulled the hand back toward her and sprinkled salt over the damp spot. “You’re going to lick the salt off-- Not yet, hold on. Lick the salt, shoot the tequila, then eat the lime.”

“Lick, shoot, lime,” Maura repeated.

“You’ve really never done this before?”

“Not to my recollection. Any hard liquor I drink is usually in the form of a martini.” 

“Ready?”

Maura nodded. “What are we toasting to?”

“Uh, new experiences?” It sounded like the right thing for the moment. They clinked the tiny glasses together and Maura followed Jane’s lead through the steps, wincing as the liquid poured down her throat. “Hurry, the lime helps with that,” Jane said, biting down on her own piece of citrus as she watched Maura do the same.

“That’s… excruciating,” Maura coughed, reaching for her sangria to chase the rest of the burn away.

“Does the job, though.”

“I do admit to feeling a little more carefree,” Maura said. As if to accent her statement, her toes trailed up the side of Jane’s calf.

Jane cleared her throat and worked to focus on the woman across from her. Now that she was several drinks into the evening, she found herself wanting to ask questions. “If I’d gone to that sweat lodge with you, what do you think would have happened?”

“You would have complained about how hot it was because you don’t know how to channel tranquility.”

“How could I be _tranquil_ if it’s too hot?”

“You really should try meditation.”

“I do. I just drop into a very deep state and call it sleep.”

Maura chuckled and her toes slipped higher, making contact just behind Jane’s knee. “Just admit you’re not very good at letting go of stress.”

“Or... what?” Jane was far more curious about what was happening under the table, half aware that other people could probably see, but the Cuervo had really taken the edge off of giving a fuck about anything but Maura.

“I haven’t postulated anything beyond the current scenario, just yet.”

Jane caught hold of Maura’s foot and prevented it from seeking out any new territory. “We could go, if you want,” her voice low as she leaned forward.

“Do you want me to call a cab?”

“Well, I’m definitely not driving.”

Neither was Maura, as they were treated to one more round of shots from Frankie, who was seemingly paranoid about Jane coming after him if he didn’t keep the drinks coming. In the back of the cab, those three tequila shots and nearly just as many beers left Jane feeling beyond relaxed and she felt the need to say so.

“See?” Jane rested her head against Maura’s shoulder. “I _can_ relax.” Her body draped over the woman next to her.

Maura reverberated with a low chuckle. “Are you going to be able to walk into the house? I don’t know if I can carry you.”

“Psshh, I can walk.” Though it had been a bit of a challenge to get her knees to work once she rose from the bar booth. “And I can do this,” she said, cupping Maura’s cheek and pulling her in for a kiss. Her hand dropped and toyed with the fabric of Maura’s skirt. Jane had no clue what it was made of, but it sure felt nice. Even nicer still was the warm sensation of Maura’s skin under the hem of it.

“Jane?”

“Hmm?”

“You need to get out of the car.”

Jane opened her eyes and realized she must have dozed for the remainder of the ride home. She blinked, the brief nap giving her a fresh zap of energy and she climbed out of the car and quickly shuffled up the walk, waiting for Maura to unlock the front door.

Once inside, Jane was met with the reality of drinking multiple beverages and quickly excused herself to the guest bathroom. She quickly finished her business, but she spent a few minutes studying herself in the mirror, wondering just how much everything was about to change when she went upstairs and got naked with her best friend.

“She loves you, that’s what matters,” she affirmed at her reflection.

Somewhere along the way, her pants never made it up to the second floor. Maura was on her bed, leaning back on her elbows. She was still dressed, though her shoes were kicked off near the doorway. This was how Jane could tell Maura was drunk, as well, because the three inch heels weren’t put away and itemized with the others.

Jane sat on the bed, taking in the sight of Maura stretched out next to her. And then she promptly fell, face-first, right into Maura’s lap. She’d never heard Maura laugh louder and harder than that moment.

“I’m okay,” Jane’s voice was muffled against Maura’s thighs. She tried to push herself up, but the tequila was rampant in her system, now. Maura awkwardly guided her upright. “We can still… where’s that book?”

“What book? And where are your pants?”

“Lesbian sex manual.”

“You want to read it, right now?”

“I need to know what I’m doing.” When Maura made no move to get up, Jane slid off the bed and stumbled toward the bookcase in the corner of the room.

“What makes you think I keep it in here?” Maura asked, amused. She watched Jane drag a finger across the book titles, index finger popping forward, one spine at a time.

“Because it’s sexy. And people keep sexy stuff in the bedroom.”

“Maybe I keep it in the study.”

“You don’t.” It took effort to focus on the words that lined the edges of the books and Jane wasn’t sure if she’d be able to find it if there were ten copies in a row.

Maura pushed up off the bed and joined Jane by the shelf. She guided Jane’s searching hand up a row and to the right. When Jane passed right by the book in question Maura tugged her wrist back until she had a hold of it.

“Told you,” Jane said, vindicated. She immediately dropped to the floor, sitting with the book on her lap. Maura followed and cozied up behind Jane, resting her chin on her shoulder. The first few chapters were just a bunch of text, something Jane found to be counter productive for a sex manual. “Aren’t there pictures?” Finally, she found one, but it was just an anatomic drawing of a vagina. “Is this a _textbook_?” She skipped ahead several chapters and hoped she wasn’t about to discover anything too advanced. Once she eventually discovered the illustrations she was looking for, she was distracted by the sensation of Maura’s lips on her neck.

“Feel free to keep reading,” Maura urged, voice soft as she kissed behind Jane’s ear.

“I, uh… forgot how,” Jane closed her eyes and leaned back. Maura’s hand snaked around and splayed fingers now rested against Jane’s stomach.

“Come on,” Maura was trying to stand, but Jane didn’t want to get up, just yet. Everything felt too good.

“I liked what we were doing.”

“You fell asleep.”

“I did?” Jane used every ounce of energy she had to sit upright.

“Mmhmm.” Maura held out her hands to Jane, offering to pull her up. Jane accepted, but even though Maura was the more sober of the two, she still wasn’t entirely stable on her feet and they both went tumbling onto the bed. 

Jane tugged at Maura’s skirt, pulling on the zipper. “You can’t sleep in this.”

“I should hang it up.”

“Hang it up tomorrow.”

“But, wrinkles.”

“Pay someone to take them out.” Maura didn’t object, so Jane kept pulling until the garment came off, then she dropped it on the floor.

“No more tequila,” was the only thing Maura said before lifting her shirt over her head, giving Jane a full view of her bra clad breasts. She pulled the covers down and slipped between the sheets, patting the space next to her, indicating Jane needed to join her.

Jane eagerly accepted the invitation to ease into bed with her best friend, a place she’d been many times before, but this was the first time she wanted to use Maura as a pillow.

The second she was horizontal, Jane was sound asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

When Jane woke, there was a distinct imprint of the lace edge of Maura’s bra embedded on her cheek.

“Morning,” Maura offered. Her own head was pounding, due to dehydration, and she was sure Jane wasn’t faring any better.

“Can I jus’ keep sleeping?” Jane mumbled, rolling onto her side.

“Absolutely.” Maura planted a kiss on her shoulder before heading for the master bathroom. After drinking a glass of water from the tap, Maura stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to loosen the tense muscles of her shoulders. If _she_ was hungover, she knew Jane must be miserable. After she dried and wrapped her robe around herself, she refilled the glass from the bathroom and placed it on the nightstand next to Jane, along with a couple of pain relievers. Back in the bathroom, she shut the door and blow-dried her hair, breathing through the lingering pain of her headache. Once she ate breakfast, she was confident it would dissipate without need for medication. She was always attempting to keep as many toxins out of her body as possible.

She collected her clothes from the previous night, placing them on top of the hamper. From her closet she chose a casual Saturday outfit, though the jeans and loose fitting sweatshirt were still designer, then she retrieved Jane’s jeans from the drawer in the guest bedroom. When she returned to deposit them at the edge of the bed, Jane was awake but cursing at the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

“What time is it?”

“Nine thirty-seven,” Marua answered.

Jane accepted the jeans from her and struggled to stuff her legs into them. She sat there, pants still open, as she downed the water and pills. “Did we…?”

“Have intercourse?”

“Really?” Jane shot at her. “Intercourse?”

“You browsed through the diagrams of _The Whole Lesbian Sex Book_ and then you promptly fell asleep.”

Jane sighed. “Helluva night.” She groped around under the edge of the bed, then began to search the corners of the room.

“What is it?”

“My belt. I need my phone.”

“Probably downstairs with your pants.”

Jane groaned and allowed Maura to pull her onto her feet. She fastened her fly on the way to the stairs, then stopped when she heard a voice. “Ma?” she called down toward the first floor.

“Yes, it’s me. And TJ.”

Maura shrugged when Jane glanced at her. “I had no idea they were planning to be here.”

“Maybe you’re right about the boundaries thing.”

Both women descended the stairs and Jane continued looking for her belt, which she finally located in the bathroom. Maura was about to assist Angela with the breakfast she was preparing with TJ perched on her hip, when Jane sidled up to her, belt and suit pants in hand, looking frantic.

“Hey, Maura. Have you seen my un-gay anywhere-ay?”

“Your…” She realized Jane was speaking pig-latin. “You know pig latin has no actual ties to the Latin language, but--”

“ _Maura_ ,” Jane grit out through her teeth.

“You didn’t bring it upstairs,” Maura replied, doing her best to keep her voice low.

“Your gun?” Angela asked. “You mean the one you asked Vince to put in his office safe after your final round of drinks, last night?”

“Is that what you were asking him? You told me you requested that he play more 80s band hair covers.”

“Hair band.”

Relieved, Jane swept past Angela and snatched up TJ in her arms and directed all her attention at him. “That’s right, I did. Because gun safety is very important. And it would be a bad idea to get so drunk you left a loaded weapon where a baby or a turtle might find it.”

“But your Auntie Jane, even when incredibly inebriated, still puts everyone’s safety first,” Maura contributed.

Angela plated the pancakes she’d been preparing, but not without comment. “You’re making it very difficult not to ask when you two are planning to have--”

“Ma!”

After breakfast, Jane swore she didn’t want to touch alcohol for at least a week. Until Maura reminded her that the beer brewing class was that evening. Fortunately, by then, Jane’s headache had dissipated and the sodium rich foods she’d been consuming all day assisted with the hangover.

Jane genuinely appeared to enjoy the beer class and was already making plans to home-brew her own lager when Maura pinned her up against the back of front door and planted a kiss on her that left them both breathless.

“Does that mean you want to go right upstairs?” Jane inquired.

Maura nodded and led Jane behind her. This time, she stepped into her closet space and hung up the day’s outfit, skipping her nightgown and simply covering her coordinating undergarments with her robe.

When she emerged, Jane sat on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed. Her eyes were wide as Maura moved toward her and gently pushed her back down onto the mattress, hands sliding up Jane’s arms until their hands were folded together above Jane’s head. Their lips met, though Maura teased, not allowing full contact until Jane leaned upward to claim what she wanted.

“I was about to ask,” Maura said, between kisses, “if I should just take a shower and let you relax.” She released her grip on Jane’s hands, only to find those same fingers tugging open the robe and maneuvering over the her skin and underwear.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Just wanted to be sure you were ready.”

“I just know I want to touch you,” Jane admitted. She twisted her hips, an effort to change their position, but Maura’s thighs gripped her too tightly to get any leverage.

“Going somewhere?” Maura was amused at Jane’s struggle to try and flip her over.

Jane sat up. “How are you so strong?”

“Less brute strength, more physics. My center of gravity is positioned in such a way that your movements aren’t able to generate the necessary momentum for a tipping point, allowing me to maintain a stable equilibrium.”

“If you continue to make science this hot, I’ll be forced to learn something and my reputation will be ruined.” Jane momentarily abandoned the effort to get Maura on her back and went to work on something in her control. She tugged her t-shirt up, but her undershirt got caught along with it. “Wait, I can’t find the hole.”

“Jane,” Maura chuckled, “if you can’t find the hole, we can’t do this.”

“Shut up and help me,” sputtered Jane.

While Maura could have just grabbed from the top and yanked both shirts up off of Jane, she chose to start low, hands gliding up already bare skin, over the cotton of Jane’s bra, then finally to the tangle of garments that held arms and head hostage and freed them.

Jane’s newly liberated hands found their way inside Maura’s robe, trailing over midriff and upward, over breasts, copping a feel through the satin. Maura groaned, arousal more rapidly apparent as Jane continued to touch her. Though, the long fingers, while eager, seemed to hesitate as they dropped lower. 

Knowing of Jane’s self consciousness when they’d previously discussed sex, Maura took the initiative to guide Jane’s left hand to the space between her legs, gently pressing strong fingers against the already damp panties. With a groan, any qualms Jane seemed to have disappeared as she made a few experimental strokes, eliciting mews and whimpers from the woman above her. This continued for a while, but Maura needed more if they planned to escalate things.

She said as much, at least non-verbally, bearing down against Jane’s hand. Taking this as a cue to try a shift in position again, Jane managed to successfully flip them over, though she would have taken a header over the edge of the bed of Maura hadn’t been gripping her shoulders. Jane’s pants found the floor, Maura’s panties were caught on the corner of the bed, and that silky robe slid somewhere over the side of the mattress.

 

“I still need, uh, to know what to do.” Jane’s mouth was hovering near the base of Maura’s neck, trailing kisses, while her fingers lightly roamed the now naked area between Maura’s legs. “I mean, as far as what you want.”

Observing that Jane most likely just needed direct instruction, Maura placed her hand right on top of Jane’s and navigated her touch right where she needed it most, her back arching up into the taller woman once fingertips provided the desired pressure.

“Just like that,” Maura confirmed, gripping a handful of dark hair and pulling Jane down into a heated kiss. Whenever Jane’s fingers got off track or didn’t provide enough friction, Maura simply assisted, until Jane picked up the cues. She was quick to adapt, which Maura attributed to the fact that she was a brilliant detective. Sexual technique was something Maura had spent years perfecting for herself and she had a feeling this was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg for Jane.

When Maura hit her climax, it was a result of tandem teamwork. The fact that Maura had needed to give herself the final push didn’t dampen the look of pride of Jane’s face.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” While Jane’s fingers had stilled, her lips were tracking across the tops of Maura’s breasts. “And you’re not even naked, yet.”

They laid, side-by-side, allowing Maura to catch her breath, the end of the refractory period marked by her unhooking the bra and tossing it aside. Her skilled hands did the same for Jane’s and then she was back on top, palms gliding over taut abdominal muscles before she lowered herself and began kissing her way down Jane’s body.

Jane caught her by the arm and kept her from moving lower. “I don’t know if I…” She debated her words, not really sure what she was trying to say.

“Would you rather I didn’t?” Maura asked.

“It’s not that, I just… I’ve never been able to… that way.”

Maura traced light patterns on Jane’s inner thighs as they spoke. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”

“I’m not saying you can’t try.”

“I’m a scientist, Jane. I don’t try, I theorize and experiment.”

“In that case,” Jane playfully pushed Maura’s head downward.

From the way Jane nearly ripped a hole in the Egyptian cotton sheets, Maura determined she had enough evidence to deem the experiment a success.


	5. Chapter 5

By the following Wednesday, they’d been officially dating for a week and Jane hadn’t been home to her apartment in any of that time. She would have run out of clothes if Maura hadn’t sent Jane’s laundry out with her cleaning woman.

“You don’t have to do that, I can wash my own stuff,” Jane scooped up the pile of clean laundry and walked it over to the dresser.

“It’s not a problem.”

“It’s not about being a problem, it’s that I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage.”

“So it’s taking advantage when your clothes are cleaned, but it’s not when you raid my refrigerator?”

Jane’s face fell. “If that’s a problem, I’ll stop.” She dropped the clothes, the neatly folded items landing in the empty drawer Maura had cleaned out for her. When they’d just been friends, eating all of Maura’s food seemed like a natural thing to do. And it was kind of funny. Now that they were… (Partners? But then hadn’t they always been, on some level?) together, there was a weight that Jane felt she needed to carry, to maintain equality.

“It’s never been a point of contention. If I don’t keep a fully stocked variety of fresh foods, I know you’ll eat Pop Tarts three meals a day.” That at least drew a half-smile out on Jane’s face. Maura stepped into her space and stroked her arms. “I like making sure you’re eating well. And the laundry is just an extension of you being here with me. However, if you’d rather wash your clothes yourself, I can ask her to leave them alone.”

“I mean, I don’t hate that they’re clean…” Jane begrudgingly admitted. “And it saves me time.”

Maura brushed Jane’s hair away from her face and kissed her on the edge of her jawline. “Then let me do this for you.”

Jane sighed. “Okay.”

The following Saturday, they were both on call and working on a case that had Maura dissecting a body at three-thirty in the afternoon. Jane’s progress relied on the autopsy results, so she was down in the lab, watching her girlfriend remove metal fragments from an open wound.

“I have something I’d like to talk to you about, but I don’t want it to upset you.”

“Oh-kay,” Jane drew the word out, unsure what any of this was actually about.

Maura peered into the entry wound, poking and prodding as she extracted more fragments. “I’d like to buy you some clothes.”

“Aw, come on. I hate shopping.” She had just enough suits for work, multiple t-shirts, and everything was fine.

“I’m aware.”

“And I don’t need new stuff.”

“Hear me out, please?”

An extended sigh led to crossed eyes and arms folded over her chest, but Jane relented. “Go on.”

“Given that you are my significant other, there will be times when I’d like you to accompany me to various events.” Maura glanced up, watching Jane. “Upscale events.”

Jane frowned. “You want to take me shopping for fancy stuff, don’t you?”

“I’d like for you to have a wardrobe selection beyond polyester blends and cotton v-necks. Not that you don’t wear them well. You do.” Maura’s eyes raked over Jane’s body. “You _really_ do. But I think you’d be surprised to find that you may actually enjoy wearing clothing that’s been tailored for you.”

“I already have two dresses from you in my closet that cost more than the rest of my entire wardrobe combined.”

“And you hate wearing them.” Maura retrieved the final shard from the body and stood upright.

“I hate trying things on in stuffy dressing rooms even more.”

“I know.”

“So you’re just doing this to torture me.”

Maura smirked. “I could think of nearly a dozen more interesting and effective ways to make you squirm.”

Jane switched tactics. Anything to keep out of those snooty boutiques. “You don’t have to buy me stuff.”

“Your birthday is nearly a month from now.”

“And Red Sox tickets are a sure bet to my happiness. Dress shopping just makes me want to curl up in the fetal position.”

“I never said anything about _dress_ shopping. You did.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“There’s a tailor who specializes in gender-neutral professional attire.” At Jane’s blank look, Maura continued. “He will come to the house with a selection of suits, you’ll try them on, and I’ll pay for the ones you like. Everything will be custom fitted to your liking.”

This sounded way better than the afternoons where her mother guilted her into a dressing room, trying on dresses and skirts made from itchy material. Because of her long frame, things rarely hung right on her body when things came directly off the rack.

“Can I drink during this fitting session?”

Maura smirked in victory. “If that’s what will make you comfortable.”

“It’ll certainly make me less likely to bitch the whole time.” Jane looked down, past where her thumb hung into her belt. “Are my clothes really that bad?”

Maura set down her tools and removed her gloves. “Your style works for you. I simply want you to know there are options you may like beyond the same five t-shirts.”

“But they’re comfortable.”

“And if you don’t find anything you like in the selection, you don’t have to take any of them.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

On Saturday, Jane dutifully showered and dressed before eleven, as instructed by Maura. She was convinced the next couple of hours would be, at best, tolerable with alcohol. Her mother was downstairs, having invited herself to the fitting, claiming she loved a good fashion show. Jane groaned, but Angela had also presented her with a plate of bunny pancakes, so she couldn’t complain too much.

There was a knock at the door at eleven-thirty, sharp, and Maura was quick to answer, guiding in several assistants who were wheeling wardrobe carts up the front walk and into the hallway. A thin man, about Maura’s height, dressed in a sharp suit, breezed into the house, giving Maura a kiss on each cheek.

“Jane,” Maura waved her over to proceed with the introduction. “This is Peter. He’ll be conducting the fitting, today.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jane said, extending her hand.

“Oh my god,” Peter exclaimed, taking Jane’s hand. “You’re a girl’s wet dream, aren’t you?” He looked her over, but it was an assessing gaze, not predatory. “No wonder Maura wants to dress you up and parade you around. You’re like a goddamn Greek statue. And that voice!”

“We’re Italian,” Angela corrected, easing herself next to Jane to meet Peter. “I’m her mother. Angela Rizzoli.”

“Ma! I said you could stay if you didn’t interfere.”

“She’s no trouble,” Peter assured. “Besides, where would any of us be without our mothers?”

“Enjoying peace and quiet somewhere, probably,” Jane mumbled.

Angela lightly slapped her on the arm and then busied herself with looking over the racks of clothes. Two of the wardrobe assistants moved the coffee table and set up a changing screen in its place. The idea of trying on all these clothes in the middle of the living room didn’t thrill Jane, but then Maura was handing her an open Peroni, so she kept her thoughts to herself and took a seat at the breakfast bar.

“So, Jane.” Peter approached and leaned on the island with an elbow. “Maura’s told me a little bit about what you normally wear. And I can tell by how you’re dressed, right now,” he indicated to her t-shirt and jeans, “that comfort is a priority to you.”

“Not so much _a_ priority as _the_ priority.”

Peter wasn’t fazed. “Your job requires you to wear suits daily, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the number one thing you like the least about your work wardrobe?”

“I don’t know. It’s fine.” But Peter waited for more details. Jane shrugged. “The suits are hot in the summer. Especially with a button up. And the pockets _suck_.”

“Ah, yes. A primary design flaw when we sacrifice functionality in favor of clean lines.”

“I always thought it was to sell more handbags,” Angela said.

“Perhaps a little of both,” admitted Peter.

“I don’t carry a handbag at work.” Jane took a swig of her beer. “I have to worry about my hand _gun_.”

One of the assistants rolled a smaller rack over toward the dressing area. Peter gestured for Jane to stand. “These first options are selected with your job in mind.” He guided her to the rack of suits and held one of the sleeves out to her. “The higher quality natural fabrics allow more breathability than the cheaper poly-blends usually found in off-the-rack department store suits, particularly the ones made for women. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, arms in the arm holes, legs in the leg holes, I can handle it.” Jane stepped into the makeshift dressing room, noting that the partition was at least high enough to where she didn’t feel exposed. Her jeans and t-shirt were kicked aside as she slid on the first suit combination. It looked a lot like what she wore every day, but she could see what this guy meant about the fabric. Even with the blue button up paired with the jacket and pants, she didn’t feel like she was about to sweat through everything, the way she did on warmer days or when she was up on the third floor of the precinct.

When she stepped out, everyone was waiting, expectantly. “Okay, you can’t all just stare at me like I’m some kind of zoo exhibit. You’ve seen me wear clothes, before.”

The tailor circled her while Maura brushed her hands over Jane’s shoulders, then straightened her shirt collar. “You look great,” she said, flashing a smile at Jane.

“How does it feel?” Peter asked, tugging and clipping the back side of the jacket.

Jane swung her arms back and forth, crossing them in front of her to check the sleeve length, because it seemed like the thing she was supposed to do. “Good?” She examined herself in the full length mirror that had come in with the clothing racks. The button ups did always look more professional than her t-shirts and, if they were all this comfortable, she’d definitely wear them more. Probably not in August when it was sticky and humid, but for sure during the non-summer months. And the pockets! Jane grinned as she shoved her hands as deep as she could. There was no way change would fall out of them when she sat in her car and she’d always know where her car keys were if she had this much space to work with.

She tried on the next couple of options, which also fit well and Jane liked them, but she was quickly getting bored. Peter seemed to pick up on it, so he briefly conferred with Maura about other color choices, then signaled for the rack to be switched out for another. Jane took advantage of the momentary changeover and worked on drinking her beer.

More suits awaited her, but these looked fancier, like she’d be allowed to wear them to gallery openings or to meet the Queen or whatever Maura had in mind. The second she slid her arms into the first of the upscale suit jackets, Jane felt taller. Maybe she could understand what Maura was always talking about when she went on about fashion. Jane was just never in a position to feel empowered by what she was wearing, because it was always a dress she was being forced to wear to meet someone else’s standard.

When she made herself visible to the rest of the room, her eyes were on Maura who, in turn, chewed on her bottom lip. Okay, not only was this particular suit comfortable as hell, it had secret pockets in the jacket, and it made her girlfriend extra hot for her? She’d take ten.

“Is that the Ermenegildo Zegna?” Maura asked, sliding a hand up the arm of the jacket.

“Yes,” Peter nodded. “And it’s exquisite on her, isn’t it?”

“Quite.” Maura circled Jane like a shark, then stood next to her as they both faced the mirror. “You look great.”

“You said that about the first four.”

“Well, this one is particularly excellent on you. I always knew you’d look amazing if you let me put you in fine Italian fabrics.”

“You want fine Italian, I can give you a fine Italian,” Jane teased. She examined herself in the mirror. “I don’t want to know how much this costs, do I?”

Maura shook her head and handed Jane a fresh beer.

“I want to know,” Angela said, sliding up to Peter to not-so-discreetly inquire about the general cost of a suit much like the one Jane was wearing. After Peter whispered an amount in her ear, Angela immediately confiscated the beer bottle from Jane’s hand. “There’s no way you’re drinking around that!”

“Hey!” Jane pouted and reached to take it back, but she was ushered back into the dressing space, where she dutifully tried on two more suits, both of which elicited similar responses from Maura as the first. She was beginning to get the feeling that she’d be keeping everything she’d tried on, so far.

Finally, they were finished, with all of Jane’s measurements and alterations entered into the iPad of Peter’s primary assistant. The crew took everything back out into the small panel truck that had been parked on the street.

“Thank you so much for coming out for this,” Maura said.

“My pleasure,” Peter insisted. “You two really make a lovely couple.”

“Do you do weddings?” Angela asked.

“Oh my god, _Ma_!”


	6. Chapter 6

One thing Maura hadn’t counted on when supplying Jane with her new wardrobe pieces was just how much Jane would actually love them. Over the next few weeks, every single dinner outing was preceded by, “Is there a dress code? Because I could wear some of my new stuff.”

While she loved the way Jane looked and, personally, really had no qualms about wearing expensive designer clothing just about anywhere, Maura also knew it wasn’t the greatest idea for Jane to wear a two-thousand dollar suit to eat pizza, no matter how upscale the gourmet pizzeria. It turned out, the best way to keep Jane from wearing the formal wear seven days a week was to let her see one of the receipts. Not that Maura “let” her. She just happened to find one when looking for envelopes in Maura’s desk.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” Jane paced around the bedroom, head in her hands. She was only wearing her underwear, because she was about to dress for dinner and drinks with everyone from work. “I thought maybe you spent that much on everything. Which was already too much, by the way.” She sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I thought we agreed the amount wouldn’t be discussed.” Maura took a seat next to her, still dressed in the Cassandra Strickenberg skirt she’d worn to work that day.

“That was before I knew you were blowing money on… me feeling like James Bond.”

“I didn’t _blow_ money on anything. I spent my money on a gift for you.”

Jane sighed. “I know it’s your decision what you do with your money. I just… feel weird about taking such an expensive gift from you.”

Maura took Jane’s hands in her own. “How many times have you saved my life?”

“That’s not--”

“ _Jane_. How many times?”

“A couple,” Jane said, softly.

“Okay, and that’s not even taking into account that I’m deeply in love with you. The money doesn’t matter.”

A reluctant smile work its way across Jane’s face. “You’re crazy about me.”

“Yes, I am.” She lifted Jane’s hands to her lips and kissed her fingers.

“Will you at least promise me that you will at least keep the spending at a minimum, unless it’s my birthday or Christmas? Or if it’s official Red Sox merchandise?”

“I can do that.”

It was actually that conversation that gave Maura the idea for Jane’s actual birthday present. Because even though the suits were given under the guise of Jane’s upcoming birthday, Maura knew that if she didn’t have something prepared on the actual day, Jane would likely mope around like a sad puppy, even if she said she wasn’t expecting anything.

“Okay, now I know you’re just trying to throw me off track, because there’s not a game today.” Jane peered out the window of the Mercedes into the empty parking lot.

Maura zipped past the sea of vacant spaces until they looped around to the back entrance. “There may not be a game, but we need to pick something up.”

“Season tickets?” Jane’s eyes were wide, hopeful.

“No. Though, that would have been a really good gift idea. Maybe next year.”

As they exited the car, Jane gave Maura a lengthy side-stare. “I will break your complicated code, Dr. Isles.”

“There is no code,” Maura said with a shrug.

“Why are we here?” Jane asked, stepping in front of Maura and walking backward so she could glare at her over the tops of her sunglasses.

“You really want me to spoil the surprise?”

“No.” Jane’s shoulders dropped and she spun back into position so she fell back in step next to Maura. “I’m just trying to solve the mystery.”

“Once a detective…” A security guard opened the side entrance and allowed access into the main level, toward the concessions and gift shop area. Their footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness of the space.

At the gift shop, Maura opened the door and gestured for Jane to enter. “Are they even open?” Jane asked, looking around the space at all the red and white merchandise.

“They are for us.”

Behind the counter was a smiling woman. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Isles. And this must be Detective Rizzoli?”

Jane nodded, “Yeah. Though, I’m not on the job, so Jane’s just fine.”

“From all of us here at Fenway Park, happy birthday, Jane.” The clerk handed her a brand new Red Sox baseball cap.

Jane’s eyes lit up and she accepted the hat, immediately putting it on. “That’s so cool! Thank you.”

“And from me, a very happy birthday to you.” Maura picked up a large, flat gift box from the counter and handed it to Jane. 

“Do I open it now?” At Maura’s nod, Jane pulled off the thick red ribbon that was wrapped around the white cardboard and pulled open the box. Inside was an authentic Red Sox home jersey. “What? No!” Jane’s eyes sparkled as she dropped the box on the counter and lifted the shirt out. She flipped it over to see that the name emblazoned on the back was “RIZZOLI” in thick block letters. “Maura, this is amazing.” Her arms looped around Maura and pulled her into a tight, grateful hug.

Maura squeezed back and laughed. “Well, put it on, see if it fits.” Jane eagerly unbuttoned the jersey and slid it over her arms. Maura refastened the row of buttons for her and then stepped back to look Jane over.

“This is _awesome_.” There was a mirror next to the selection of ball caps and Jane planted herself in front of it, twisting and turning to look at her reflection from all angles.

“I thought that maybe you’d like to wear this while knocking some balls around.”

Jane laughed. “I assume you mean we’re going to the batting cages?”

“Something like that.”

“This is the best birthday. Thank you.”

Maura smiled, pleased with herself as Jane tugged her into another embrace and kissed the side of her head. “We should move on to the next activity.”

“Right! To the batting cages.”

Maura took Jane’s hand and they walked out of the gift shop, back through the empty level. But instead of exiting out the doors to the parking lot, they turned down a different corridor.

“Are we supposed to be going this way?” Jane asked.

Maura continued to lead them through a door that led to a stairwell. “You don’t want to find out where this leads?”

“I do, I just…” Jane glanced over her shoulder. She supposed she could always flash her badge, if necessary. The stairs exited onto the lower level and it was clear they were about to step onto the rampway that led directly to the field. “Oh, shit.” There was an added hustle in Jane’s step as the brown and green of the diamond came into view. “Maura…” Then she saw the attendant prepping the pitching machine set-up on the mound and the rack of bats lined up near the batter’s box. “Are we… _this_ is where we’re hitting balls?”

“You are. I’m content to watch.”

Jane jogged over to the bat selection and began picking them up to check the weights. Once she found one she liked, she picked up a helmet and slipped it over her head. She signaled the attendant to activate the machine. After about a dozen pitches, some of which Jane sent deep into the outfield, she stepped out of the box and turned to Maura.

“You sure you don’t want to try?”

“I don’t know. Are you going to make fun of my optimal batting stance?”

“Are you going to stand in a ridiculous pose like you always do? Because I can’t make any promises,” Jane said, fighting a smile. Maura found a helmet for herself, but Jane grabbed her arm before she could enter the batter’s box and stood behind her, arms alongside Maura’s as she held her bat. “Back elbow needs to be raised, about forty-five degrees. Follow through,” she guided a slow motion swing, hands over Maura’s on the handle. “These pitches are a lot faster than the ones at our softball games, so keep your grip tight until you make contact.” Jane released Maura and gave her a light smack on her backside. “Go get ‘em.”

Maura took her position at the plate, resisting the urge to revert to her optimal position, trusting Jane’s advice. The first ball whizzed past before she even had a chance to swing. “How fast are the pitches?”

“About sixty miles per hour.”

Maura nodded and calculated a bit of basic physics, based on the distance from the plate to the pitcher’s mound. The second ball ejected from the machine and Maura counted but didn’t swing the bat. The next ball that sailed toward her didn’t cross the plate because she swung directly into it and sent it somewhere over the third base line.

“I did it!”

“You did.” Jane’s pride was evident in her voice.

They took turns swinging at pitches until their arms were sore and they were both sweating under the helmets. Maura thanked the attendant and returned the sports equipment to the rack. Jane took a seat on the grass, pulling Maura down with her.

“That was fun,” Maura said, following Jane’s lead and lying down to look up at the open sky.

“Yeah. And Frankie’s going to be so jealous.”

“I think that’s the mark of being an excellent girlfriend, right? Giving gifts so great, your significant other’s siblings are envious?”

“I think so.” Jane rolled on her side to face Maura. “Have we really only been doing this for six weeks?”

“What?”

“This,” Jane laced her fingers with Maura’s.

“Yes. But there’s the illusion of it having been longer because of our friendship and the amount of time we both spent keeping our romantic feelings to ourselves.”

Jane was quiet for several moments, her fingers stroking Maura’s forearm. “I can’t imagine my life without you,” she finally said, rolling up onto her knees. “Maura…”

There was a longing in the way Jane said her name and it forced Maura upright. “Yes?”

“I, uh… this isn’t how…” Jane cleared her throat. “I’m going to ask you this again, probably soon, when I have everything I need to make it as perfect as you deserve it to be. But… I need you to know that I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.”

Maura absently wiped at an unexpected tear that welled up and threatened to fall. Involuntary physical reactions to her emotions always confused her, but her focus was on what Jane had just said to her. “You _do_ make me happy, Jane.”

“Then we’re off to a good start, huh?” Jane leaned in and kissed her, arms wrapped tightly around Maura.

“An object that is in motion will not change its velocity unless a force acts upon it,” Maura posited. At Jane’s raised eyebrow, Maura continued, “I’m very glad you were a force that I encountered, because our trajectory is one that exhibits incredible potential.”

“Did you just science me?”

“Not the first or last time it’ll happen.”

Maura Isles, M.D. took pride in the fact that she was a woman of scientific study, that she resolutely put her faith in facts and figures, math and chemistry, that she didn’t guess or make assumptions on the job. She believed in the direct course of cause and effect, in finding the truth, even when it meant waiting longer an ideal amount of time for results.

Except when it came to Jane.

Jane Rizzoli was always asking her to “trust her gut” or to speculate on possible answers without having complete information. While Maura was never truly comfortable making presumptions about cases, she was adapting a bit more to a little bit of conjecture in her personal life.

With Jane, Maura sometimes had to hypothesize, because Jane wasn’t always forthcoming, not in an effort to be deceitful, but due to the fact that she kept personal details to herself unless they were dragged out of her. But they’d been working on that, on Jane’s sometimes unnecessary stoicism and Maura’s tendency to overshare whatever she’d been internally analyzing.

It worked, their symbiosis, and Maura was proud of it, of them for being such opposites in that regard, but still finding ways to understand each other.

However, Maura’s current state of suspense was making her anxious. Ever since that afternoon at Fenway Park, she’d known that Jane planned to propose to her. The problem was, she had no idea when it was going to happen and that was proving to be intrusive to her standard logical thought. Intellectually, Maura knew it didn’t matter. She already had sufficient evidence that Jane loved her and intended to be monogamous. Up until recently, Maura had been comfortable with her decision to remain single, as her career was her current priority. The idea of marriage, at least to any of the men she’d dated, didn’t appeal to her.

But the idea of getting married to Jane? It felt exciting and relevant and necessary. It was also possibly giving her hives due to the anticipation of the impending proposal.

When they were at the house, if Jane dimmed the lights, Maura wondered if a velvet box was about to make an appearance. If they were planning to go for dinner after work, Maura contemplated the probability of a public proclamation of love. It had been nineteen days since Jane’s birthday, meaning it had barely been two and a half months since their relationship took on an expressed romantic element, but Maura couldn’t stop thinking about how important it would be for them to gain the legal advantages that came with spousal privilege.

So, when Jane arrived in Maura’s office to pick her up from work, dressed in one of her upscale suits, charcoal gray with a pinstripe button-up, it was evident they were big plans for the evening.

“I thought we could go to that fancy French place you’re always trying to drag me to.”

“ _Le Beau Truc_?” Maura was expecting some fanfare, but this went above and beyond. “It still takes at least two weeks to get a table there.”

“Good thing I called two weeks ago, then,” Jane waited for Maura to collect her things, hands in her pockets as she rocked on her feet.

“Look at you, planning ahead.”

“Look at you, hurrying so we don’t miss our reservation.”

Maura spent the drive over checking her make-up and fussing with her hair, just in case any important photos were taken. She noted her behavior was somewhat laughable, better reserved for a character in a romantic comedy, so eager to be asked a basic question. But Jane had always had the uncanny ability to make Maura do things that were outside of her usual comfort zone.

Once at the restaurant, they were quickly seated at a small table in the back corner. It was relatively private with a decent view of the quartet playing classical music on the small stage across the dining room.

“May we get a bottle of the _Château Léoville-Las Cases_ , please?” Jane asked the waiter, impressing Maura with her pronunciation. He nodded, commenting on the excellence of her choice.

Maura was impressed and a little shocked. “Jane, that’s a two-hundred and fifty dollar bottle of wine.” The price wasn’t a problem, it was just unlike Jane to order something so easily that didn’t fall in line with her usual sense of frugality.

“Then it better taste good.” There were sitting on the same side of the rounded table for two and Jane had easy access to stroke Maura’s knee.

The music was perfect, the atmosphere was just right, and Jane kept fidgeting with her napkin. Everything told Maura this was the night.

Until Jane’s phone rang. Maura’s didn’t which told her it was likely related to details on a current case.

“Rizzoli,” Jane answered, annoyance clearly lacing her tone. “I’m out with Maur-- Yeah. Okay. No, I get it. I’ll be right there.” The call ended and she shoved the iPhone back into the holster on her belt. “It’s Korsak. I have to go.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No,” Jane shook her head. “Stay, enjoy the wine. The reservation was a pain in the ass to get, so have dinner, okay? And bring me home something that isn’t…” She wrinkled her nose. “Snails.” She gave Maura a quick peck, then rose from her chair once Maura agreed to remain at the table. “You want me to send Ma to pick you up later?”

“No, I’ll take a cab.”

Content with that plan of action, Jane hustled for the door, leaving Maura with the waiter who placed two glasses down on the tablecloth and she didn’t bother to tell him it was now just her, alone. She’d probably end up drinking the whole bottle, anyway. After sampling the tasting pour, Maura indicated she wanted a full glass. He’d only just replaced the wine glass on the table when she saw Angela enter the dining room. She was followed by Frankie, then Tommy trailed in.

Angela spotted her and made a beeline for the table. “Where’s Jane?”

“She was called in,” Maura sighed. “Have a seat, the wine is excellent.” She signaled the waiter to request two more chairs, even though the table was most definitely too small for all of them. But she didn’t really care, at the moment.

“Oh, _no_.” Angela lowered herself into the chair. “And she was planning this… uh, dinner for weeks.”

“I know it wasn’t just dinner,” said Maura. “It’s not like Jane would pick a place like this for a regular night out.”

“Yeah, this place is… wow,” Frankie whistled as he looked over the menu.

“Hey, you got a burger on the menu?” Tommy asked the waiter.

“If you guys would shut up for five seconds, I have something I’d like to say.” 

Jane’s unmistakable raspy voice came from the space behind Maura. When she turned around, she expected to see her girlfriend towering over her, but instead she was on one knee, holding a small box in her hands. She flipped the box open to reveal a platinum ring with a simple but elegant round-cut diamond in a solitaire setting. “Maura, you’re my best friend, I’m so in love with you and I want us to do everything together. Will you marry me?”

Angela’s phone was turned up to full volume, so Maura could hear every single digital photo being snapped of the moment.

But all she could see was Jane holding that ring, looking at her with that hopeful, puppy dog gaze. “Yes, of course, I will.” Maura didn’t realize she was shaking until Jane took her hand to slide the ring onto her finger. She steadied herself by grabbing Jane’s face and kissing her. “I love you,” she said, resting her forehead against Jane’s.

“Then it’s a good thing I got you a ring, huh?”

“You tricked me,” was Maura’s reply.

“You anticipate everything, so I had to think of something,” Jane said, pressing another kiss to Maura’s cheek. “And I hope you’re hungry, because I ordered like four appetizers.”

“Great, I’m starved,” Tommy said, though it was punctuated by an “Ow!” when Jane punched him in the leg.


	7. Chapter 7

Jane had known her mother would be insufferable the second she knew about the proposal. Everything became about wedding plans and caterers and beautiful locations. Fortunately, Maura was more than happy to discuss all of these details with Angela and, once she brought Constance into the picture, both of the older women were thrilled to build Pinterest boards together. They hadn’t set a date, yet, and that was probably part of why Angela hovered so much, but it had only been a week since she’d given Maura the ring. 

With the case she’d been working, Jane had spent most of her daylight hours at the station, coming home to Maura’s to be fed a sensible dinner, then reviewing case notes until she fell asleep, only to start it all over again the next day. The long hours were getting to her, but they were getting closer to a break, just as soon as Nina finished running a massive search to match their most likely suspect to the crime. The current wait time was about an hour.

She ambled downstairs, knowing Maura was still in her office, even though it was nearly six-thirty.

“Hey,” she said, leaning in the doorway. “Can I take a nap on your couch?” Jane was already moving for the small sofa, pulling the throw blanket off the back of the armchair and haphazardly wrapping it around her.

“Of course,” Maura said, rising from her desk chair. “Are you feeling all right?” Her gaze flitted over Jane, immediately assessing her state of wellness.

“Just tired.”

Maura pulled the blinds on the office windows and shut the door. Even though no one else was in the lab to make any noise, it did cut down on the hum of the giant refrigerators.“You slept for seven hours last night.”

“Are you tracking my sleep patterns?”

“I just happened to noticed.” Maura sat on the sofa, pulling Jane’s legs over her lap.

“I’m not sick.”

“No, but you are making yourself susceptible to various cold strains by making poor dietary choices.”

“What are you talking about? You feed me all kinds of leafy green crap.”

“Yes, but all this week you’ve had breakfast from the vending machines, which means either chocolate chip mini muffins or a Snickers bar.”

“I came down here to rest, not get a lecture.”

Maura offered a sympathetic smile and patted Jane’s knee. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She gently rubbed her hand along Jane’s calf, fingers lightly massaging the muscle under the fabric of the pant leg.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” Jane murmured, snugging under the throw blanket as she pulled it up over her face.

“You know,” Maura began, “there is something to be said about the benefits of an endorphin rush when you’re feeling run down.”

“I’m not going running,” came the reply.

“I was referring to the release that comes with orgasm,” Maura said, casually.

The blanket folded down and Jane eyed her. “What, right now?”

“Why not? All the lab techs have gone home, the door’s locked, and I’m more than willing to assist you.”

“Assist me?” Jane smirked.

Maura unzipped Jane’s boots and slid them off her feet. Probably because Jane had a bad habit of falling asleep with her shoes on and it drove Maura crazy. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I think I need to sleep for fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” Maura gave another light pat on the knee, then picked up of the medical journals from the small accent table and began reading.

Jane closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing enough to relax. The couch was small, but it was comfortable enough for a nap in these moments when she needed a break at work. Only today she was restless, especially with Maura’s suggestion rolling around in her brain. And with Maura’s fingers trailing back and forth along her lower leg.

“Uh,” Jane peeked out from behind the blanket. “Let’s say I wanted to know just how you’d… assist me… if I needed… assistance.”

“I wouldn’t want you to exert unnecessary energy, so I’d recommend you stay on your back,” Maura suggested, lowering the journal and tossing it back onto the table. She turned so she could rest her elbow on the back of the couch as she looked at Jane, wrapped in the throw. “Me performing oral sex on you would be the most practical approach.”

“Is that--” Jane had to clear her throat so her voice was audible. “--your official medical opinion?”

“It is.” Maura’s free hand trailed up Jane’s thigh, then back down. “It’s low impact, but highly effective. If my research has any bearing the topic.”

“Low impact,” Jane repeated. “So what would I need to do exactly?”

“Take off your pants and let me do all the work.” Maura was already fiddling with the buckle on Jane’s belt, then tugging at the zipper. Jane’s hips lifted in consent and her pants and underwear were quick to end up on the floor.

“You’re sure that door’s locked?” Jane asked, neck craning as she tried to asses the doorknob.

“Mmhmm.” There was a shift in Maura’s position as she removed her heels. Next, she shrugged off the jacket of her coordinated pantsuit and neatly draped it over the arm of the sofa, leaving her looking somewhat sporty in her sleeveless blouse and well coiffed ponytail. Her body eased to the floor, resting on her knees, one of Jane’s legs stretched out on the sofa, the other bent with one foot on the ground.

Her hands stroked Jane’s thighs, thumbs dipping low on the skin, fingertips digging in, just enough, to elicit a low whine from Jane. Maura’s hands gripped Jane’s hips and urged her closer to the edge of the couch so she could lift the bent leg over her shoulder at the knee before leaning in and leaving delicate kisses on the path of bare, exposed skin that led up between Jane’s legs.

When her mouth finally made contact, Jane’s head tipped back as she drew in a long breath, pushing out a sigh. The nap had seemed like a good idea, but this was a million times better. Jane didn’t know if it was the intense study of anatomy or what, but Maura knew exactly how to draw pleasure out of her. In her entire life she hadn’t had as many orgasms as she’d experienced in the last couple of months. It wouldn’t take long before she added another to the tally. Jane’s fingers gripped the back of Maura’s head, her hips undulating without any direct voluntary command from her brain. Her mind was relaxed, no thoughts about work or the upcoming wedding, just a primal understanding of Maura and her magic mouth.

Jane came with a groan, her grip on Maura’s head holding her in place for a moment until her body went slack. She felt like she could sleep for a week but somehow also run a marathon at the same time. Maura had that effect on her, this ability to make the impossible seem like it was totally doable.

She lazily opened her eyes to see Maura still on her knees, though resting back on her calves, hands adjusting her ponytail. “You look amazing,” Jane reassured.

“You sure, you’re not just saying that because of the active endorphins flooding your body?”

“Pretty sure you’re gorgeous all the time, babe.” A slight blush crossed Maura’s face and Jane took pride in the fact that, even though Maura had just gotten her off, it was Jane who could make her girlfriend react in this moment.

“I’m going to clean up. You should nap.” Maura adjusted the throw blanket so Jane’s naked lower half was covered.

“Sex _and_ sleep? You really are perfect.” Jane had no difficulty getting comfortable, now. “We should get married.”

Maura chuckled. “Yes, we should.”

Jane’s eyes drifted shut, the last active thought she had before falling asleep was that Maura had definitely perfected the art of getting her to let go and unwind. It was true, she hadn’t really known how to relax before Maura came into her life.

She woke up to Maura gently brushing her dark curly hair away from her face.

“Whattime’sit?” Jane slurred, blinking at the overhead office light. 

“Seven-seventeen. You’ve been asleep for twenty minutes.”

Jane sat up. Maura was a firm believer in the twenty-minute nap, claiming it was somehow scientifically sound. “Did my phone ring?” It was rare for Jane to sleep through the sound of her phone even just vibrating, but after the long week and the afterglow, she’d dropped right off.

“Not that I noticed.” Maura perched on the edge of the couch, handing Jane her pants so she could slip them back on.

“I’m getting hungry. Maybe we could order something? Or… if you want to go home, I’ll just eat from the mach--”

“You’re not eating Oreos for dinner,” Maura chastised. “I still have some paperwork to finish, so I can order in while you check with Nina.” Jane nodded and began to reach for her boots, but Maura captured her hand and redirected Jane’s attention so they were facing each other on the sofa. “Also, I want you to know that I… love you.”

A smile spread across Jane’s face. “I know.” But Maura shot her a mild glare that suggested she had more to say.

“I love you and I never really gave much thought to marriage, beyond fantasy weddings. But you make me excited about our future together. So, Jane _Clementine_ Rizzoli,” there was a soft smirk at the name, but Maura’s eyes were sparkling with absolute happiness, “will you marry me?”

For a second, Jane thought maybe she was still dreaming, because why would Maura be proposing of they were already engaged? But then she saw the ring that Maura held between her fingers, the simple platinum band with the embedded diamond inlay. There was nothing protruding or awkward about it, the way Casey’s ring had been.

“You already know the answer to that question,” Jane said, smiling widely.

“It still helps to say yes so that I don’t return the ring and spend the money on something else,” Maura deadpanned.

“Of course I want to marry you,” Jane replied, arms sliding around Maura so she could kiss her, then Maura slipped the ring onto her finger. It felt right. Again, not like the massive rock she’d been presented in the past. This ring was elegant and sleek and wouldn’t be awkward when she had to reach for her gun. And had no doubts about the bearer of this ring. Maura was who she wanted, no questions asked.

They both leaned back, enjoying the closeness of their cuddled embrace. “You know, optimal wedding planning timelines are anywhere from six months to a year,” Maura said.

“A _year_ of my mother showing me wedding blogs and asking my opinion on floral arrangements? No, thank you.”

“Which was why I was going to suggest we keep things simple and pick a date that’s much sooner rather than later.”

The word simple stood out to Jane as incredibly appealing, but that didn’t fall in line with her understanding of Maura. “What about your hundred foot train and the cliffside wedding on a volcano?”

“It was twenty feet and a childhood fantasy.”

“Look, I know I’m a pain in the ass about stuff, but I don’t want you giving up what you want.”

“And I don’t want you being miserable on our wedding day.” Maura tucked her legs up underneath her. “I don’t need a fantasy wedding, I just need you.” But Jane’s raised eyebrow drew more out of her. “And a booking at the Boston Public Library.”

“Okay, even I know that place is so popular that it has to be booked way in advance.” As much as Jane had tried to tune out her mother, there were certain bits of information that stuck. Probably because Jane knew the library would appeal to Maura.

“Which is why my mother made a few calls.”

“And?”

“They had a cancellation.”

“When?”

“Next month.”

Jane jerked upright. “You want to get married in a _month_?” She was on her feet and pacing, unsure if the news was unwelcome or actually ideal. Next month meant her mother would finally be done pestering her about details. It also meant she’d be married _next month_.

“And… if we take the booking, there’s a home game that afternoon and the right field roof deck is available for the reception.”

“The… at Fenway?” She stopped mid-pace and turned to face Marua. “You want to have the reception at Fenway?”

“I know it’s not vows over home plate, but the foot long hotdogs and frozen lemonade will be readily accessible.”

“How much would all that cost?”

“My parents want to gift it to us.”

“It’s too much, Maura.” Jane’s phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen. “I…” Maura nodded, encouraging her to pick up the call. “Rizzoli. Yeah, okay. Be right up.” She clicked the phone onto her belt, but didn’t move for the door. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Of course.” But there was a damp quality to Maura’s tone and Jane could tell she’d snuffed out a bit of her excitement. Maura didn’t let it show, though. “Go break your case,” she encouraged, picking her medical journal back up.

The entire elevator ride back upstairs, Jane reflected on how perfect it would be with the library and the ball park. It was what they both wanted. But it also had to be at least twenty thousand dollars in expenses.

There was no way Jane could afford that and definitely no way her mother could contribute anything really substantial. To be honest, Jane would be content with a justice of the peace and a Dirty Robber reception with a great cover band. But would Maura?

She tried to keep her focus on the case and the information gathered from Nina’s search was enough for them to prove the guy they had in custody was the right one. It was enough to call an end to the work day and Jane was glad to head home. She’d sent a text shortly after coming back up to the third floor, telling Maura not to order dinner, because it wouldn’t take that long to wrap things up.

They met in the lobby, Jane’s hands deep in her pocket as they walked to the car. Things weren’t necessarily awkward, but she knew their previous conversation was hanging over them.

As they began the drive home, Maura asked, “I didn’t have a menu lined up for tonight, so I was thinking we’d order a pizza?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Jane wondered if this was an attempt to sooth her or sway her. Or maybe it was just dinner.

The rest of the trip home (it had stopped being simply _Maura’s_ at some point, Jane wasn’t sure when) was quiet, the radio filling the space between them. It was rare for them to not have things to say to each other and Jane didn’t like it. Once they were inside the house, Maura wanted to shower before they ate, so Jane was in charge of placing the pizza call. She dialed her favorite pizzeria and ordered the usual half-meat, half-veggie that had become the standard for the two of them. As she hung up, the back door opened and Angela entered, looking a little surprised to see Jane.

“I thought you were working late.”

“Got a break, finally.”

“That’s good.” Angela filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove. “You want tea?”

“Nah,” Jane opened the refrigerator and grabbed beer. “Pizza’s on the way.” She popped off the cap and sunk into one of the barstools.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is Maura working late? It’s okay to miss her, but you really do see each other all the time.”

“She’s taking a shower.”

“Is it your period?”

“Ma, seriously.”

“Well, what do you want me to say when I come in here to find you moping around?”

“I’m not moping.” Before Angela could get another question in, Jane decided it would be better to just come clean about what was bothering her. “Maura found us great locations for the wedding and the reception.”

“Are you setting a date?” Angela’s tone was hopeful. “Where? Oh, Janie, this is so exciting!”

“The Boston Library--”

“It’s booked solid for a year and a half!”

“Yeah… but we could grab a spot that’s a little earlier.”

“When?”

“Next month?”

“Oh my god, my baby’s getting married next month.”

“I didn’t say we were decided, yet.” 

“What’s to decide? It’s the most popular wedding location in Boston, it’s gorgeous, and the next best thing to a traditional Catholic wedding.”

“So many things are better than a traditional Catholic wedding. This beer is better than a traditional Catholic wedding.” Jane tugged at the label on the bottle. “Anyway, she also wants us to have the reception at Fenway--”

“There’s no way it’s available the same day.” But at Jane’s lack of response, Angela gasped. “It _is_? Oh, this is a sign. It’s perfect.”

“It’s also expensive.”

Angela drooped, a bit. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been pinning possible wedding locations all week. Well, I’m sure we could work something out.”

“Maura’s parents want to pay for it.” Jane’s mouth twisted, as she still tried to sort out how she felt about the offer.

“That’s incredibly generous of them.”

“It’s too much.”

“And _that’s_ what’s bothering you,” Angela realized. “I know the Rizzolis are a proud family, but we can’t be too proud to take what’s offered to us. What if I hadn’t taken Maura’s offer to stay in the guest house? Where would I be?”

“Making tea in your own apartment?” Jane suggested, but she flashed a small smile. “I know, you’re right. But this is at least twenty-thou--”

“This is just like the clothes, all over again.”

“Yes, it is. I don’t want to take advantage.”

Angela put her hand on her daughter’s arm. “Twice,” she began, “this girl thought you died. You’ve scared the crap out of her, and me, by the way, with what you do. So, if she wants to take care of you and her parents want to help pay for your wedding, I think you should damn well follow her lead, because you’re lucky to have her.”

There was silence as Jane absorbed her mother’s words. “You’re right,” she finally said.

“Besides, Rizzoli Pride is also what left me with all your father’s debt, so know when to let it go.”

Jane caved in and gave her mother a hug. “Thank you.”

“Now, when’s the date?”

“I, uh, don’t actually know. She didn’t say.”

“The twenty-sixth,” came Maura’s voice from the doorway. She was wrapped in her robe, hair up, slippers on her feet. 

Jane didn’t expect the wave of affection that hit her when she looked at Maura. “How long were you standing--”

“Long enough to know I should probably tell my mother to keep the booking.”

Jane was up off the stool, rambling as she moved toward Maura. “I’m sorry I was… I don’t always mean to… I’ll try to…”

Maura nodded. “I know.” She pulled Jane to her and gently kissed her lips. They leaned into each other, enjoying the moment until the kettle whistled, and reminded them that Angela was still there.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll just get my Sleepytime tea and get out of your hair.” Angela poured the hot water into a mug and let herself out the back. As her mother crossed through the courtyard, Jane could hear her saying something about a beautiful wedding and a doctor in the family.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Jane murmured against Maura’s hair.

“I wasn’t scared. Somewhat disappointed, perhaps.”

“I mean about… before. With the shootings and the bridge stuff.”

“Oh.” Maura’s body clung a little more tightly to Jane’s.

“I can’t promise I won’t be in danger at work, but I… should work on thinking things through.”

“Thank you.” Maura nuzzled Jane’s neck, keeping her close. “Not too much, though. I do like that you have a bit of spontaneity in you.”

“Yeah, the lipstick on my inner thighs tells me you’re all about spontaneity.” Jane looked back at the courtyard exit. “You know if we locked that door, we could get really spontaneous.”

“Maybe after the pizza’s delivered.”

“I don’t know, it sounds like a plot to a very spontaneous adult film.”

“I just know not to put you in a position to choose between sex and pizza.”

“You’re so smart. That’s probably why you’re getting married at the library.”

“Well, so are you.”

“Smart or getting married at the library?”

“The second implies the first.”

“So, both?”

“That’s probably why _you’re_ getting married at the library.”

“Is it just me or is the word ‘library’ starting to sound like it’s not really a word?”

“Semantic satiation.” At Jane’s blank look, Maura explained. “The psychological phenomenon in which repetition causes a word or phrase to temporarily lose meaning for the listener.”

“You want to go upstairs and see if you can make my name lose meaning?”

“I don’t see how-- _Oh_.”


	8. Chapter 8

The advantages of an earlier wedding date were things like knowing Angela wouldn’t be able to torture Jane with a year’s worth of questions about flowers, centerpieces, and cakes (though Jane would probably be willing to endure months of cake tasting, no problem) or that, within a few weeks, they’d be enjoying the legal benefits of a marriage union (something Maura actually though a lot about, given how many times Jane landed herself in the hospital in recent years). The disadvantages were mostly centered around logistics. Even though the spaces they wanted were available, they still needed flowers, food, chairs, a cake, rings, a dress for Maura and whatever Jane was going to decide to wear, decorations, and invitations (which had to go out immediately, because of the short notice). 

Jane’s solution to the invitation situation was far from formal. “Can’t we just send a Facebook invite or something?”

“It’s a wedding, not a pizza party,” Maura replied.

“It’s the 21st century, not the 1800’s, Emily Post.”

“Emily Post’s _Etiquette_ was published in 1922.” 

“Maura,” Jane’s slid into the seat at the dining room table, putting herself directly across the space from her fiance. Several binders of paper samples and envelopes were opened between them. “I know you’re all about propriety and manners and everything, but we want people to show up.”

Jane wasn’t wrong. And their abbreviated planning schedule was well outside any timeline that would have been satisfactory to the late Ms. Post. “Without an open mind, you can never be a great success,” Maura recited, the quote randomly pulled from her memory. “Martha Stewart.”

“I still don’t know if that means you want to do the online invite thing or not.”

“Yes, I think it’s an excellent solution.”

Jane sagged in relief. “So we don’t have to decide between boney nettle and whisper wind?” she asked, glancing at one of the open pages.

“We do not.” Maura closed the binders and stacked them in the middle of the table. “And neither of those were actual color options. But you’ve given me inspiration to look outside of the box in regard to our other needs.” Swiping at her iPad, she pulled up her to-do list. “Catering is covered by the ballpark, but we still need to decide on what kind of cake we want.” She picked up her phone and dialed a number from her contacts. “Hello, Angela?”

“Oh god,” Jane flopped back, resting her head on the chair.

Maura lightly kicked Jane under the table. “Are you free this afternoon? Great. See you soon.”

“If you’re hanging out with my mother, does this mean I can hang around here all afternoon?” Jane asked, as Maura ended the call.

“No, it means you’re coming with us.”

Jane slumped lower. “Where?”

“Around.”

“Maura.”

“My mother is handling the floral arrangements for the ceremony and your mother is working on a cake design, so we need to decide on our rings.”

“Then why did you just call Ma?”

“Because,” sounded Angela’s voice from the back door, “a mother’s opinion is always needed.”

“Even when it’s not wanted,” Jane quipped.

Maura rose from the table. “I’m introducing Angela to Mario Piccoli. His bakery is near the jewelers, so she’s getting a lesson while we look at rings.”

“They call him the Michelangelo of cake decorating.”

“He sculpts naked guys out of cakes?” Jane asked.

“Oh, stop.” Angela swatted at the air between them. “I’m doing this for you, you know.”

“I know,” Jane finally uprighted herself. “Thanks, Ma.”

“That’s better.”

The next few weeks were a flurry of cases and wedding preparation. Maura needed a dress, which was difficult with the rapidly approaching wedding date. Other things could be rushed or changed, but finding a great dress really couldn’t. Not that Maura minded the multiple hours a week browsing through boutiques and trying on gowns, but time was of the essence. With a week to go, Jane was already fitted for a custom suit, thanks to Peter. But Maura just couldn’t settle on anything. She was out with her mother on a Saturday morning having left Jane happily at the house, watching television. The mother and daughter duo had been in and out of four shops and Maura was starting feel like lunch should be their next stop, but Constance pulled her into one more small storefront.

The dress the clerk showed Maura was probably the ugliest thing she’d ever seen in her life, though she certainly didn’t say so. The second dress, however, seemed like it might have potential. Once Maura put it on, she knew it was the right one. She looked at herself in the mirrors and admired the way the Caroline Herrera gown hung on her. It would need some slight alteration, but it was modern while still being elegant, whimsical without making Maura feel she was too mature to wear it.

The dress came home with her later that afternoon, zipped in a black garment bag that somewhat reminded her of the body bags she worked with on a regular basis, and she tucked it into the guest bedroom closet with express directions for Jane not to look at it.

“Yeah, I know. It’s bad luck.” Jane chuckled and patted the couch cushion next to her. Maura dropped onto the spot and leaned against Jane who wrapped an arm around her.

“The superstition is actually centered around the groom seeing a bride _in_ the dress before the wedding. It dates back to when arranged marriages were customary and the couple wasn’t allowed to see each other, at all. The traditional wedding veil was to keep the groom from finding out what the bride looked like until that last possible moment.”

“And then it’s too late to back out,” Jane realized. “And what happens when neither of us is the groom?”

“Considering that very few things about our union is considered traditional, I don’t think it matters.”

“Then why can’t I see your dress?”

“Because it’s a surprise.” Maura sat up and brushed Jane’s wild hair away from her face. “I want you to be stunned when you see me.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re always stunning.”

Maura blushed and responded with a kiss. When it broke, she said, “Did you know that in Medieval Europe--”

“I’m guessing I probably don’t.”

“--it was considered scandalous for a woman to show enthusiasm about losing her virginity? So new brides were carried over the threshold to avoid looking too eager about consummating the marriage?”

“Is that so?” Jane turned and scooped her arms under Maura, attempting to lift her off the couch, but it was too difficult to stand and her balance was off, so she fell sideways, leaving Maura pinned between her body and the couch. Neither of them could keep from giggling and Jane ended up shifting so they were spooning.

“Nice effort. Though, I know you’re fully aware that I’m not a virgin.”

“ _What_? Maura, I am scandalized.”

“Just wait until you see what I’m wearing _under_ the dress.”

Jane propped herself up on her elbow. “Hey, uh… about that. It’s a week from now. Are we… Did you want to, um, wait at all?”

“Wait for what?”

“Sex.”

“Jane,” Maura rolled onto her back, lying flat as Jane’s arm draped across her abdomen. “We’ve already been intimate multiple times a week for two months.” 

“I know, it’s just something that some people do before a wedding.”

“I suppose there is a certain element of eroticism in temporarily abstaining. Does that appeal to you?”

“It could maybe be kind of… hot… to know we couldn’t do anything until after the wedding.”

“Anything at all?” Maura asked.

“Uh, well, okay… kissing should be allowed.”

Maura slipped her hand behind Jane’s head, pulling her down. “That’s good, because I like doing this,” she said before meeting Jane’s lips with a hungry kiss. The movement also caused Jane to shift position from lying beside Maura to being on top of her.

“And cuddling,” Jane added.

“I think this is a stretch for cuddling.” Maura rocked her hips upward to emphasize her point.

Jane scrunched up her face and slid back to the side. “Okay, maybe not quite like that.”

“So, we’re saying intimacy is okay, but not erotic touch.”

“That sounds like it could mean a lot of things.”

“Touch or contact with intent to produce an orgasm.”

“Okay. Yeah, that’s the one we’re not doing. For a week.” Jane sighed. “This is a good idea, right?”

“It’s certainly a challenge I’m willing to undertake.”

They lazed on the sofa for a little while, until it was time to prepare dinner. Maura had just began pulling the fresh vegetables out of the refrigerator when someone knocked at the front door.

Jane glanced at Maura, who shook her head. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

When Jane pulled the door open, her brothers were there, at least for the second before they trampled past Jane into the house. 

“Janie!” Frankie was unusually excited to see her and Tommy wasn’t acting any less bizarre, attempting to keep a plastic shopping bag hidden behind his back.

Jane eyed them, suspicious of whatever reason they were dropping by. “What’s up?”

“We just wanted to stop by and say--” Frankie nodded at Tommy, who whipped the bag around and opened it. “-- we’re taking you to a strip club!”

Tommy reached into the bag and produced a handful of party supplies, which he began handing to Jane: A shot glass with LED flashing breasts, a plastic ball and chain, and a tiara that said “game over” on the front. “It’s your bachelor party. But like, the girl version. But not the girly version.” He placed the tiara on Jane’s head and the look she shot him suggested she would rather be on fire than wearing it. “Oh! And then there’s Candy.”

“At least you brought snacks,” Jane muttered, pulling the plastic crown off her head.

“I think this is cute,” Maura said, pressing the button on the shot glass that illuminated the plastic breasts.

Tommy began opening a plastic package, but it was quickly evident that Candy was not candy. Before he could get the plastic valve in his mouth, Jane ripped the inflatable figure away from him. 

“You brought me a _blow up doll_?” Jane shook the wadded up plastic at him. 

“Hey, easy! She was thirty bucks!” Tommy took the deflated Candy back and held her limp form against his chest.

“Then you take her home and… I don’t want to know what happens after that point.”

“Look,” Frankie began. “It was hard to know what to get because we didn’t have a lot of time to prepare. I mean, we’ve only known you’re into chicks since, like, a couple months ago.”

Tommy shrugged. “Well, we kind of thought maybe you were. But Ma always told us to let you figure it out on your own--”

“Oh my god,” interrupted Jane. “How often did you all talk about my sex life behind my back?”

Frankie frowned. “We don’t talk about _that_.”

“But you want to take me to a strip club?”

“Tommy and I go all the time.”

Jane pressed a hand to her head. “Well, it’s nice of you to think of me, but Maura and I actually didn’t want to have bachelorette parties.”

“Oh, I think this is excellent primitive bonding behavior. Did you know that--” But Jane was quick to silence Maura.

“Nope.” Jane held up a hand. “Anything you’re about to say about anything I think you’re about to say is not what Rizzolis do.”

Maura pursed her lips. “I think it’s nice that they want to share something with you, was the point.”

Jane looked back and forth at her brothers. “I’ll go for, like, an hour, but you have to invite Maura. I’m not doing this by myself.”

“What about us?” asked Tommy.

“Yeah, you two? Will be throwing dollar bills and drooling on yourselves.”

Frankie gave a half-hearted shrug. “She’s not totally wrong.”

“I’d love to join you,” Maura replied, happily. “I’ve never been to a gentleman’s club.”

Jane scoffed. “I guarantee you, there are no gentlemen at Centerfolds.”

“How do you know that’s where we go?” Frankie asked.

“Those stamps take a couple days to wash off.”

Tommy shook his head and tried to put the tiara back on Jane. “Anyway, we’re not going to Centerfolds. You’re our sister, you deserve something classy. We’re taking you to The Foxy Lady.”

Jane swatted his hand away from her head. “I’m so glad you put so much thought into this. Can we go there now?”

“Do I need to change?” Maura asked.

“Babe, you look fine,” Jane assured her.

“Aw, aren’t they cute? Okay, let’s go.” Tommy began to shoo them toward the door, attempting to blow up Candy one more time. Right as the front door was about to close, Jane snatched it from him and threw it back into the house.

Fortunately, Tommy couldn’t hold a grudge for too long, since they were on their way to see actual mostly-naked women. It was Maura, however, who truly seemed to be the most excited about it. She’d never indulged in this particular type of recreation and, from an anthropological standpoint, it was fascinating to her. With Tommy at the wheel of Maura’s Prius as designated driver, Frankie rode shotgun and the soon-to-be newlyweds sat in the backseat.

“Are you sure this is what you want? To have me come with your to your bachelorette party?” Maura asked.

“Considering I didn’t even want one, it’s not like you’re intruding.”

“This doesn’t fulfill any kind of fantasy for you? Erotic dancers?” While their relationship had clarity, Maura was still trying to figure out Jane’s sexual proclivities.

Jane shrugged. “I can respect that they get guys to throw money at them.”

“It’s certainly a fascinating power dynamic,” Maura agreed. She didn’t press the topic for the rest of the drive, which was fine because Frankie had commandeered radio and began playing the Dropkick Murphys as loudly as possible. Well, as loudly as Jane could tolerate before she kicked the back of his seat.

Once at the club, they gathered around a small table and a lingerie clad cocktail server was quick to stride over to them. “What can I get for you, tonight?” she asked.

“Club soda and lime for me,” Tommy said.

Frankie continued the order. “And three shots of Cuervo with a beer back for the rest of us.”

“Uh, no,” Jane shot a pointed look at Frankie, then turned to the server. “He’s having that, I’ll take a Blue Moon, and the lady here will have any ten dollar glass of Chardonnay that doesn’t come out of a box.”

“Cabernet,” Maura prompted. “I prefer a good red in the evenings.”

Jane nodded with the correction. “Cabernet.”

Frankie handed over his credit card to open the tab and, once the server left, the four of them sat and stared at the woman currently on stage. After their drinks were delivered to the table, Jane waved Tommy and Frankie away.

“Just go sit by the stage, if you want.”

The brothers hesitated momentarily, both unsure if it was a trick, but as soon as Jane’s eyebrow lifted, they both took off and found seats closer to the action.

Maura swirled her wine, habitually taking in the scent to see what notes she could pick up. There were clear hints of cherry and cocoa, once she took a sip, she was also met with an essence of mint. “It has a surprisingly complex flavor pallette considering the venue,” she commented, then noticed Jane was watching her, a small amused smile on her face.

“What?”

“You’re in a strip club doing a wine tasting.”

“You’re in a strip club watching me taste wine.” Maura nodded toward the stage. “Isn’t the attention supposed to be focused over there?”

“Are you demanding I watch another woman take her clothes off?”

“In the spirit of the evening, yes.” Maura leaned over to kiss Jane’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

“You’re leaving me alone?”

 

“I’m going to the ATM because I think we need some cash if we’re going to participate.”

Jane looked past Maura to the blue lit sign above the cash machine that sat in the small hall that led to the restrooms. “Oh. Okay.” 

There was a strong possibility that Maura had misled Jane. The assumption had likely been that Maura was withdrawing cash to be used at the main stage, slipping singles into g-strings. Which could be fun. But Maura had a different plan. She pulled the stack of twenties that were being dispensed from the machine and folded it in half, regretting her choice to wear a dress out this evening, because pockets would be more convenient than needing to dig into her purse all night.

After stopping to speak briefly with the cocktail server and hand over some of the cash, Maura returned to the table. “Did I miss anything?”

“This girl has really strong thighs,” Jane said between swallows of beer.

The woman on stage was several feet high and perpendicular to the silver pole, legs wrapped around it as her upper body jutted out at a 90 degree angle.

“It’s actually core strength that allows for that kind of control.”

“So this is why you’re always trying to drag me to yoga?”

“Not initially, but now it’s certainly on my mind.”

Their server approached with two more drinks. “Another Blue Moon and a cabernet.” She placed the drinks on the table and waited as Jane downed the last of her first beer so she could clear the bottle. “And this is Cinnamon,” she said, introducing a lithe redhead in a black bra and panty set connected by garters to thigh high stocking.

“Which one of you is the bachelorette?” Cinnamon asked.

“Uh, both of us?” Jane replied, confused about what was going on.

“Yes, but she’s the one you’re looking for,” Maura answered, indicating Jane.

Jane’s brow scrunched together. “For what?”

“Your private lap dance.” Maura smirked at her over her wine glass. 

“You did not just buy me a lap dance. Maura, I’m not going back there with a total stranger.” She glanced to Cinnamon. “No offense.”

“She can come with you,” Cinnamon replied. “If that’s what you’re into.”

Maura perked up. “May I?”

Cinnamon shrugged. “You’re paying, honey.” She led the way through the club past the curtained area to a short hallway with two doors on either side. They entered the first on the left and a security guard took a position right outside the door as Cinnamon pushed it closed. 

Inside the space was an loveseat and an armchair, both upholstered in vinyl. The abundant ultraviolet black lights didn’t show any indication of bodily fluids and the upscale nature of the club suggested to Maura that it was at probably at least cleaned nightly. 

Jane was guided to the chair, where she sat, uncomfortably. Maura perched on the edge of the sofa, eager to watch whatever was about to happen.

“Club rules are hands to yourself unless I specifically put them somewhere,” Cinnamon said, taking her stance in front of Jane. “And everybody remains seated.” After an confirmation nod from each of the women, she leaned over enough to brace her hands on the armrests, giving Jane a very direct view down her bra top. “Any specific requests or do you just want to start with the basics?”

“The… basics… are fine,” Jane mumbled.

“First time?” Cinnamon asked, pushing up off the chair to select music on the iPod that rested in the speaker dock sitting on the small table in the corner.

“Yeah,” Jane sighed.

Cinnamon looked her over. “Catholic?” She asked, sounding sympathetic.

“How the hell would you know that?”

“I’m a stripper in Boston, hon. I see Catholic guilt all day long.” A heavy R&B beat began to play and Cinnamon circled around so that she made a full walking approach toward Jane, hands roaming her own body until she was close enough to slide them up Jane’s legs then back into her position of leaning in using the armrests. “Let’s see if we can get you to relax a little.”

Maura couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped her. She’d spent years trying to get the same thing out of Jane and they were just now making progress. Though, if she’d tried a lapdance, perhaps she could have yielded better results.

She watched as Cinnamon danced, body undulating as she raised and lowered herself, sometimes touching Jane, sometimes keeping her hands on the arms of the chair for balance. Jane wasn’t having any visible reaction to anything, she just sat politely while the dance continued. Maura wondered if Jane was possibly demisexual. Not that her disinterest in a stripper’s performance would be overall indicative of her sexual identity, but there were other clues that Jane needed a romantic connection to really express any interest in erotic contact.

Maura, on the other hand, was feeling a little flushed just watching the encounter, particularly when Cinnamon would slide the entire length of her body down Jane’s, then back up again. There was a moment when Jane caught her eye and her head tilted as she studied Maura’s face before a look of realization crossed her own. Knowing this was a turn-on for Maura immediately caused Jane to loosen up and when Cinnamon took her hands and placed them against her ass, she went with it.

The song ended and another began, but Cinnamon stepped back. “Did you want a dance?” she asked Maura.

“No, thank you. I’m content to just watch.”

“Do I get a say in anything?” Jane asked.

Cinnamon laughed and sat on the arm of the loveseat. “We can sit in here and play Words with Friends for the rest of the hour, if that’s what you want. I don’t have to dance.”

Jane whipped her gaze to Maura. “You paid for an entire _hour_?”

“When’s the wedding?” asked Cinnamon.

“Next weekend,” answered Maura, but her eyeline was fixed on the dancer’s torso. “You have remarkable muscular tone.”

“Thank you,” Cinnamon rubbed her hands over her midriff. “It’s partly the job, a lot of pilates, and then I teach a morning lap dance class three days a week.” She glanced from Maura to Jane, then back to Maura. “Which… actually… you want a lesson? Since we’re here.”

Maura immediately nodded. “I’d love that.”

“I’m not learning to lap dance,” came Jane’s protest.

“No, you’re going to learn how to _get_ one. And you,” Cinnamon stood and nodded down at Maura. “Are going to get a beginner’s lesson in giving one.”

That piqued Jane’s attention. “That sounds like it would be… cool.” Maura rose and walked over to Jane, waiting for instruction from Cinnamon, who reset the song on the iPod.

“Okay, you always want to open with the walk.” Cinnamon demonstrated by, again, circling back around before approaching Jane. “Think sexy catwalk.” Maura followed suit, keeping her eyes on Jane. “Then you want to go in low, hands on the legs, knee up to mid thigh, but keep your body at a distance.” Recalling what she’d seeing during the first dance, Maura mimicked the movements Cinnamon had made earlier. “Now put your weight on the chair. Do you do yoga?” At Maura’s nod, she continued. “So, a lot like plank position, but at an angle so it brings your body in closer to hers. Lift one foot of the floor, bending at the knee, then lower yourself down.”

As Maura moved downward, she noticed Jane’s breathing rate had increased. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the room, but she was also certain Jane was exhibiting a slight flush. “How am I doing?” she asked.

“Good,” Jane breathed, eyes roaming Maura.

“Then back,” Cinnamon said. “Forward, again, and lightly scratch up the fist half of the inner thigh, then up and over so you’re rubbing her lower back.”

Maura heard a hitch in Jane’s breath and her nails slid up her thighs, over her hips, and to her back. She dug her fingers into the fabric of Jane’s t-shirt, gripping and massaging the quadratus lumborum muscles below her ribcage.

“Back to the front and stand. You can freestyle a little as you turn.”

Part of Maura didn’t want to turn her back on Jane, because the hungry gaze that was fixed on her was causing her own heart rate to increase. But she followed the direction, hips moving to the music until she was facing away from Jane.

“And now you want to show her what you’ve got, more freestyle, but use the chair so you can control your grind once you’re ready.”

Once in position, Maura dipped down, her backside moving down across Jane’s lap and then between her legs. Cinnamon encouraged more freestyling, until, “Come all the way down into a squat, use her legs to maintain your balance, then you’re going to stand, butt up first.” Maura realized that, in doing so, Jane had a very clear view of her, well, ass. “Then turn. Don’t forget about that fucking great rack you have, girl. Remind her that she can’t touch it, right now.”

There were so many psychological elements at play and Maura had been trying to keep up with them, along with the instructional steps, but once her hands pushed down and around her breasts, the look of longing on Jane’s face was all she could think about. 

“Move back in, get low, then you’re going to reverse body slide back up, against her.” Maura dropped back to her knees, then worked her body back up Jane’s, feeling the heat coming off her body. “And now, bracing yourself with the chair, you want your knees up on her hips.” The position was essentially Maura sitting on Jane’s lap, hips swaying to the song. Jane was clearly trying to behave herself, so Maura took some pity on her and guided Jane’s hands to her body, starting low on her torso, then moving them just under her breasts. Cinnamon was silent for longer than expected and when Maura finally looked over at her, she said, “Sorry. Damn, you two are really hot together.” She cleared her throat and continued. “Bring your feet back to the floor, then body slide down.”

Maura released Jane’s hands, which dutifully dropped back to their respectful rule-abiding position away from Maura’s body. She slid down, then back up when instructed.

“Then a little hair ruffling is a nice signature move,” Cinnamon suggested. Maura playfully ran her fingers through Jane’s already wild mane. “Then swing it all the way around and sexy catwalk away from her.”

Maura did exactly as Cinnamon said and was still facing away from the chair when she felt strong hands turn her back around. Jane was no longer sitting passively, she was standing in front of her with intensity in her eyes and then she was kissing her, deep and aggressive. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Jane said, when they broke apart.

“Yeah?”

Jane nodded. “I’m know we’re still supposed to have over thirty minutes in here. But can we go? Cinnamon can take a nap or check her Facebook or whatever with the rest of the time. Right?” Jane looked over her shoulder at the dancer. “Or just consider it a really big tip.”

“It’s your money. I’m cool.”

“Where is it you’d like to go?” Maura asked.

“I don’t care. I just… need to… touch you.”

“What about waiting?”

“I don’t give a shit about some stupid tradition,” Jane said. Then she softened. “I mean, unless it was important to you.”

“Traditions surrounding chastity are usually misogynist in nature, so I’m fine with forgetting about it.”

“Good, because everything I’m thinking about, right now, is the exact opposite of chaste.” Jane gave an obligatory wave to Cinnamon. “Nice to meet you, thank you for teaching her, uh, that.”

“My pleasure.”

Maura collected her purse and pulled an extra hundred out, which she discretely handed to Cinnamon. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Come back if you want the advanced lessons.”

“Oh, which days are those?”

“Maura.” Jane actually whined when she said her name and Maura realized how turned on she most likely was. 

“On second thought, I’ll get that information from you later.”

Cinnamon winked at her as Jane looped an arm around Maura and guided her out. They moved quickly through the main room, Jane stopping just long enough to tell her brothers that they were taking a cab. Frankie was a few drinks in, so he nodded but wasn’t listening because his focus was on the woman’s g-string in front of him. Tommy, however, being sober, nodded and promised he’d make sure they both made it home.

“I love you guys,” Jane said, “but if you show up at the house to return the car before tomorrow afternoon, I will kill you.”

Tommy laughed, but stopped short when Jane shot him a silencing look. “Okay, okay. See you tomorrow.”

The cab ride was just long enough for Jane to relay every single filthy thought she’d had during the dance lesson and, as soon as they were inside the house, Maura was pressed up against the front door with Jane’s hand up her skirt.

When they finally made the move to head upstairs, she remembered to collect her torn panties off the floor.


	9. Epilogue

The week ticked by, day after day, their mornings together over breakfast, afternoons spent seeing each other in increments at work, evenings together over dinner, until the _big_ dinner, the rehearsal dinner on Friday night.

The Dirty Robber had been cleared out for the private party, which included the Rizzoli and Isles families, Hope and Cailin, Korsak, Susie, and Nina.

Dinner was in full swing when Korsak stood and called for the attention of the room. “So, I know a lot of us have been thinking a day like this was eventually going to happen. Probably longer than either of the two brides-to-be.” Everyone laughed, except Jane who just kind of facepalmed and leaned against Maura. “But I think the first time I realized these two had a special chemistry was right around the second Hoyt case. Jane had a broken nose and Maura reset it, on the spot. And kid,” he said, looking at Jane, “two things happened. One: She didn’t put up with any of your crap. And two: You watched her walk all they way out the door.”

“You were checking me out?” Maura asked.

“That was like five years ago! I don’t know. And my nose really hurt.”

“Which is why realigning the nasal pyramid is usually done under anesthesia. I was actually very impressed at your tolerance for the pain.”

“Yeah?” Jane smiled at her.

Tommy stood up next. “When I first met Maura, I thought she was really awesome and I definitely tried to ask her out.” Jane threw a baby carrot at him. “Hey, I’m tryin’ to say nice stuff about you. Anyway, as you all here know, that never happened because she turned me down. And it bummed me out at first, but the more I saw how Jane was around her, I started to get it, you know? Even if they didn’t.” He laughed. “Hey, Janie, I think this might be the only thing I ever figured out before you did.”

“And, uh, I also kinda liked Maura for a while,” Frankie spoke up, rising from his seat, eyeing Jane to make sure no crudite came flying at him. “But I think that’s because Jane is such an awesome big sister, we always want to follow her lead. You two didn’t start dating until not that long ago, but you’ve been ‘Jane and Maura’ for a long time. I don’t know if you know this, Jane, but Frost liked to refer to Maura as your girlfriend when you weren’t around. Kind of a joke, but not really. I think he knew.” He offered a small smile at Jane and a brief moment of silence in memory of their friend. “I’m not sure what the first time was that I thought something bigger was brewing between you two, but I definitely know that Jane doesn’t share food with anyone. Except Maura. So…” He shrugged and the table laughed as he sat back down.

Hope stood and gazed happily at the end of the table where Jane and Maura sat together. “To be honest, I thought you were a couple when I first met you both.” She looked around at the rest of the guests. “I had done a professional consult for Maura and Jane was there, too. Initially, I thought they just had an excellent work camaraderie but when Maura invited me to dinner at her home, there was Jane. And her mother!” Again, laughter. She turned back to Jane and Maura. “When I did realize you weren’t a couple, I wondered why you weren’t, because you truly have a deep connection. I’m very glad you’ve realized it now.”

Cailin didn’t stand, she just said, “I totally thought they were already married until we got the invitation.”

Nina high-fived her as she got to her feet. “When I first started in BRIC I actually asked someone about the lesbian couple who worked in the department and they had no idea what I was talking about. Then I figured out you weren’t an item. Then I had no idea why. I even thought maybe you were exes or something, but then that didn’t make sense, either. But watching you two be in love, even when you didn’t know you were has been inspiring and wonderful, because you two always put each other first.”

Jane was pretty sure her mother was crying. “You okay, Ma?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let people talk. I’m fine.”

Next was Susie. “Working in the labs means we’re always finishing reports at odd times and we have to turn things in as they come, which means I go looking for Dr. Isles all the time, so she has the data. Which also means I found myself walking into her office or the lab to find…” A round of scandalous “oohs” sounded from the table.

Jane shook her head. “Oh, please. We’ve never been caught doing _that_.”

Maura coughed, trying not to laugh as she sipped her wine.

“No, she’s right. They would always just be talking, but the way they’d stop when I entered, the way they’d look at each other always made me feel like I’d interrupted something. As a scientists, we’re taught to analyze data and form a hypothesis. All the data I gathered over the time I’ve spent working for Dr. Isles suggests to me that she and Detective Rizzoli will have a wonderful life together. A lot like the one they’ve already been having, but better.” She moved to sit, but then stood back up. “And I’ll start knocking.”

Constance rose, gracefully. “If you’re at this table, then you’re close with my daughter and, if you know Maura at all, you know she’s incredibly animated about the things which excite her. She will talk with enthusiasm about topics she deems worthy of her interest. And since she first met Jane, she’s spoken of her in abundance and with incredible fondness. In the last couple of years, Maura and I have been working on our own relationship and, early on in that process, it was quickly apparent to me how important Jane is to her. Arthur and I are honored to have Jane join our family.”

“I asked her to say everything because I’m just getting to know everyone,” Arthur said. “But I do know the love my daughter has for her is beyond compare and that sentiment is clearly reflected in Jane. That’s certainly enough for me.”

The table hummed in approval.

Angela stood from her place at the table across from Jane and Maura. “You know, they say ‘a mother always knows’ and… in a way, I think did. In a way, I also had no clue. Not so long ago, I was trying to set Jane up on dates with nice young men, because I wanted her to be happy, to have a family. She would fight me on everything. Not just about the dates, about a lot of things. She’s stubborn and strong willed… a lot like me, really.” She laughed, lightly, and the others did, too. “Maura has been someone I’ve gotten to know over the years. She’s been a friend to me, offered me a place to live, a place to celebrate important events with my own family. Her home became my home, no questions asked. And, one day, it dawned on me why Janie seemed to have trouble with all those guys.”

“Ma, really?”

“Hush. None of them were good enough for her. Some came close to trying. Some were way off. But Maura… Maura is exactly right for Jane. She challenges her, she gets her to eat vegetables, something I’ve been trying to do for over thirty years. She’s brilliant, she’s beautiful, she’s a _doctor_. She’s everything anyone would want in a partner for their child. Most importantly, she’s already family. She’d be family even if Jane hadn’t finally seen what was right in front of her. But I’m really glad she did, because I love my girls and it’s a beautiful thing that they’ve found love with each other.” She raised her glass. “To Jane and Maura. May they have a wonderful life together.”

Everyone toasted with her. But Angela couldn’t resist one last comment.

“And also bring me more grandchildren.”

The wedding was held in one of the reading rooms at the Boston Public Library, but the staging was familiar. Guests sat among the rows of tables and chairs. Korsak, who had been ordained specifically to officiate this ceremony, stood at the front of the room. Instead of being given away, Jane and Maura had agreed to enter together. Because Maura had gotten ready at the venue, Jane still hadn’t seen Maura’s dress until the moment they met up in the hall outside the reading room.

When Maura rounded the corner, Jane’s heart skipped (which she knew was called an arrhythmia, because all the time they’d spent together had apparently forced her to learn things against her will), her breath caught, and she knew she was the dumbest, goofiest smile plastered across her face.

“You look incredible,” she said, once Maura was at her side. “Like one of those magazine brides, but even better.”

Maura’s eyes roamed Jane’s white tuxedo pants and jacket, the red herringbone shirt with the collar left unbuttoned giving the ensemble just enough informality that it wasn’t stuffy. “That’s quite a compliment coming from someone as dashing as yourself.” Out of habit and possibly a need to touch her almost-wife, Maura brushed the shoulders of the jacket and her fingers tugged at the collar of the shirt. But there was nothing to fix, everything was in place.

“Are you ready for this?” Jane asked.

Maura was about to answer when Susie stepped into the hall, holding a simple bouquet of red and white roses.

“I have your flowers,” she said, passing the bundle to Maura. “I… wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”

Jane tried to keep her laughter to herself, but it bubbled over, anyway. In an effort to maintain decorum, Maura resisted, at first. But then she caught a case of the giggles.

When the main doors to the reading room opened, they were still suppressing small bouts of snickering that threatened to surface. Arm in arm, they moved up the aisle in step to the music of the string quartet that played.

Once at the front of the makeshift chapel, Korsak began the ceremony.

“We’re all here today for a wedding that doesn’t take place in a church, officiated by me, a guy who was ordained over the internet last week, and where both brides walked the aisle together with no one giving them away. To say the least, this is a very non-traditional event. But that’s because Jane and Maura aren’t traditional people, even though, like most traditional love stories, theirs sounds similar. They met, they dated, they fell in love. Except they were apparently the only ones who didn’t know they were in a relationship.”

The reading room, which was filled with their family, friends, co-workers, and even a few faces neither of them really recognized, chuckled in agreement.

“The good news is, they’ve figured it out. That’s why we’re here with them, to celebrate their love. Even if they’re a little late to the proverbial party.”

Korsak continued, but Jane was focused on Maura’s hands in her own, the way she looked so beautiful and radiant, so genuinely happy in this moment. And even though Jane had sworn on her Ted Williams baseball that she wasn’t going to cry, Maura could see she was blinking at a higher frequency than usual.

The time came for the vows and Maura was the first to speak.

“Jane, you have been such a force in my life for so long. You make me laugh. You attempt to force me to forego the proper steps in formulating logical conclusions in order to make, at best, a semi-educated guess.” Jane smirked, proud of herself. “You leave your socks under the couch and want pizza for every meal. You challenge me every single day, but you also provide balance. You protect me. You’re fierce, loyal, and courageous. You’re my hero and my best friend. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life bringing the balance of my yang to your yin.” Maura watched as Jane’s eyes welled up. Voice low enough so this was just between the two of them, and maybe Korsak, she added, “And I won’t hold you to any oaths you swore this morning about your emotional state.” She squeezed Jane’s hands, rubbing her thumbs over the backs of them.

Jane cleared her throat, wanting to make sure she could make it through this without her voice wavering. “Maura. The first time I met you, I thought you were a random weird woman with a soft spot for sex workers.” The room laughed, a few people whispered, unsure of the story that went with the statement. “As I got to know you, I learned you’re definitely weird, because you like reading articles about things like the latest advances in neurobiology surgery for fun. You’re also brilliant. And funny. And enthusiastic about everything you love. Knowing you has made me smarter, not just because you’re always spouting facts you’ve somehow memorized and filed away in that huge and complex brain of yours, but because you don’t stop until you have all the details and I’ve learned a lot because of that. It took me a long time to put together every detail I needed to realize just how much I love you.” Her voice cracked, just slightly. But it didn’t matter. “I don’t understand everything you do or even everything you say, sometimes, but I want to spend as much time as I humanly can trying to do exactly that.”

The rings were exchanged, the kiss lingered on a little longer than necessary, the couple was announced, the photos were taken. When the photographer had snapped the final shot in the library, nearly everyone else outside of the wedding party had already left for the reception venue. In the limousine on the ride over to the ballpark, Jane surprised Maura with a gift.

“But we didn’t talk about exchanging gifts,” Maura said, pouting slightly as Jane placed a large flat box on her lap.

“Because I didn’t want you to get me anything. I just wanted you to have this.”

Despite her fleeting irritation that this hadn’t been a fair exchange, Maura was excited and quickly slid the ribbon off the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a Red Sox jersey identical to the one she’d bought Jane for her birthday. The difference was the “ISLES” on the back.

Jane’s was folded neatly on one of the seats, because they’d discussed dressing casually for the reception, given that they were celebrating at the baseball stadium. “I know it’s cheesy, but I wanted us to match,” Jane said.

Maura smiled. “I love it.” She reached over to slip her hand behind Jane’s neck and pull her in for a drawn out kiss. “Now help me out of this dress.”

“ _Dr. Isles_ ,” Jane gasped, feigning scandal. “That sounds like an invitation to see you naked.”

“Perhaps, Detective Rizzoli, that’s exactly the intent.” Her fingers walked up Jane’s abdomen until she grabbed a handful of shirt and pulled Jane back into her.

There wasn’t that much time to fool around in the car before they reached the reception, so they began to change out of their formalwear. But as Maura was about to put on her jersey, she looked over at Jane. “May I wear yours? Just for today?”

“But you have your own with your name on it…” And then it dawned on Jane what Maura was asking. 

They’d agreed to each retain their own names, for the sake of their professional reputations, among other reasons. But when they arrived at Fenway, they were a visual representation of their now merged lives, each other’s surnames red-lettered across their backs.

As much as Jane had fantasized about that wedding over home plate and a reception over the pitcher’s mound, being up on the right field roof deck, watching a home game with her friends, her family… and her wife was beyond anything she ever could have imagined. The frozen lemonade and hot dogs didn’t hurt, either.

When it came time to cut the cake, Jane’s voice became very serious. “You have to swear to me, on Gray’s Anatomy, that no cake gets on either of these jerseys. We’re _in_ Fenway and that would be like… cursing in church. Only way worse.”

“Something akin to cross-contaminating evidence in a forensics lab?”

“Yes. Absolute blasphemy.”

“You have my word.”

The cake was cut without major incident and the newlyweds sat in their reserved seats and watched the game play out on the field below them. It was a moment of peace they knew would likely pass by too quickly, as everyone in attendance wanted to wish them well.

And even before the next wave of guests approached them, they were interrupted by dual ringtones.

“There’s no way anyone important is calling,” Jane said. “Everyone’s here.”

Maura glanced at the caller data on her screen. “It’s the dispatch line.” After a lingering glance at Jane, she maintained eye contact as she accepted the call. “Rizzoli.”

That drew a wide grin out of Jane who answered her own with, “Isles. And you’re going to have to call someone else, because me and the Mrs. are off the clock, today.” She winked at Maura and hung up before the confused dispatch operator could ask any further questions. “They must be new.”

Feelings, it turned out, weren’t so bad. Not when they led to a clear view of a Red Sox game with Maura by her side, fingers intertwined as they sat together, content. 

Jane’s first thought was that she could really get used to this. Her second thought was that, really, she already had.


End file.
